Just One Look
by WritePassion
Summary: How did Sam and Elsa meet? Just this author's speculation.
1. Chapter 1

_Burn Notice: I don't own it, I just like to play with it!_

_This takes place in Season 5._

**Just One Look**

By WritePassion

"I need your help, Sam."

Sam heard Michael's voice over the line. He was tense. Who wasn't, after everything that had been going on lately? But Michael seemed over the top agitated. Something was wrong. Knowing he might regret it later, Sam asked, "What do you need?"

"Backup at this fundraiser ball that Fi and I are going to tonight."

"Yeah, I know about that. Remember, you're supposed to be watching for our guy, not foxtrotting and tangoing the night away."

A snort came out of Michael. "Try telling Fi that. You know how she's going to be. If I had an extra pair of eyes on the scene, maybe I can accommodate her a little?"

"What about Jesse?" Sam tried his best. He wasn't in the mood to go out and do anything. If he'd been a woman, he would probably sit down in front of the TV in flannel pajamas and eat a pint of Ben & Jerry's while weeping at corny romantic black and white movies.

"Jesse can't do it. He has a date."

"Great. So why doesn't he take his date?"

"He had other plans."

Of course. Everyone he knew was coupled up. Even Maddie was seeing someone. Sam was the constant fifth wheel, and even worse, he hadn't had a woman in several months. Something was wrong with the Sam Axe mojo.

"Sam." Michael's voice pleaded. "Sulking isn't going to do you any good."

"Ha, this coming from a man who has Velcro Girl for a lover. You just can't relate, pal."

"I'm sorry. I know this is asking a lot of you, but could you please do this?"

Sam let out a shuddering sigh. "I'll probably be the only one there without a date. I'll stick out like a sore thumb!"

"You can just pretend your date is in the bathroom," Michael countered. "If you mingle enough, which you'll need to do anyway, no one will know. Really!"

There was no getting away from Michael's request. Bottom line, his friend needed his help. "Okay. I'll get the tux out of the mothballs."

"You really put your tux in mothballs?" Michael asked with a nasally tone.

Sam imagined him wrinkling his nose up in disgust. "It's just a figure of speech, Mikey. I'll get cleaned up, put on the old monkey suit, and meet you there in about a half hour or so. Happy?"

"Thank you, Sam! You're a lifesaver!"

"Well, if we find our guy, we'll be saving a few lives. See you soon, Mike."

Sam hung up the phone and let out a long groan. Why did he let himself get caught up in this? It was going to be a miserable night, and he couldn't even wear normal clothes. He'd have to shave too, which he hated. Better off to just bite the bullet and get it done. He went into the tiny bathroom in his tiny apartment, temporary digs until he found himself a new rich woman to take him under her wing and invite him into her home. He could afford better, but he was saving his money for... he wasn't sure what. He just knew there was something better out there than this dank little apartment and being alone.

After a shower, he shaved. Since he'd lost some weight, he discovered that he liked the angles of his face that were much more pronounced when he kept clean shaven. It was just a task that he preferred not to do every day. It cut into his hanging out at Carlito's drinking mojitos and watching the girls go by time. Besides, it seemed that scruff attracted more women, so he rarely shaved unless the whiskers got too out of control or he had a job to do, like tonight.

Splashing on some aftershave, the alcohol stung a little. The scent was one that brought back a memory of a lady friend from two years ago. Sad that he couldn't even remember her name. He hated being alone, and working with Michael didn't help the situation. There weren't as many lady friends these days, and the ones he had stuck around for awhile until they decided that his crazy lifestyle of chasing down bad guys was more than they could handle.

"They want James Bond, but when they get a real life taste, it's not all they thought it would be," he muttered as he combed through his damp hair. He picked up a few strands and noticed the gray was coming through at the roots. He'd have to do something about that. He'd also have to find a cheaper way of going about it, instead of visiting a hair stylist. Women colored their hair at home all the time. Why not guys? Sam finished getting ready, his hair forgotten for now.

Sam stepped out of the cab that dropped him off in front of the Eden Roc Hotel and eyed the couples in evening wear striding up the steps to the entrance. He followed them inside. Upbeat band music played and leaked out into the lobby. Sam stood debating whether to get himself a beer or a mojito at the bar to his right in order to bolster up his courage to go inside solo. He didn't have to worry, because he saw Michael and Fiona enter the lobby.

Michael caught Sam's eye and steered Fiona over to him. "Hey, Charles! Looking good!" He opted to use Sam's alias in case anyone was listening.

"Nice to see you, Steve." He knew Michael dusted off an old alias, Steve Remington, for the evening. He wasn't sure what Fiona was using, so he simply nodded to her.

"Oh, this is my lady friend, Rhianna Desmond. Rhi, this is my old friend Chuck Finley."

Fiona put on a smile as if she was thrilled to meet him. "Charmed, Mr. Finley."

Did he really have to say 'lady friend'? Sam shook off the annoyance and spoke. "Ms. Desmond." Sam was unable to keep his eyes off Fiona when he got a good look at her. He took her hand and couldn't help himself. He bent and kissed her fingers. In the ornate ivory dress with an empire waist sheathed in ecru lace, she looked... "gorgeous."

"I beg your pardon?" She stared at him with wide eyes.

Sam straightened and smiled warmly at her. "I said, you look gorgeous, Ms. Desmond. I hope you and Steve enjoy the evening. I suspect a lot of men will be stepping on their partner's toes when they get a good look at you."

Fiona's cheeks warmed when she realized that Sam wasn't just being flirtatious per his character. He really meant what he said. "Thank you."

"Rhi, let's go dance," Michael said, feeling hot around his collar. He gave Sam a glance, silently asking him what he was up to.

Sam only shrugged. He lifted his hand and waved to them, then turned to a different entrance to the ballroom. While he exchanged pleasantries with Michael and Fiona, he thought he saw someone he recognized, the man they were seeking. He entered the large room and realized that it would take a lot of mingling to even hope to run into the guy. Colorful gowns swirled around the dance floor and the tables set up on the perimeter, contrasted by black tuxes and ties. A few dared to match their date's dresses with their ties and cummerbunds. Most men opted for all black. Since he didn't have a date, and he wouldn't dare to match one if he did, Sam followed the crowd.

He walked the outer rim of the ballroom keeping a discreet eye on the men while sending appreciative glances toward the women. A few flirted back with their eyes and smiles. Okay, so maybe I haven't lost it. So then why am I without a date tonight?

A female gasped just before he collided with another body. Shoulder to shoulder, he bounced back and steadied himself as he turned to the person he ran into. "Oh, I'm sorry."

"It's okay, I wasn't watching where I was going." She wasn't looking at him. Instead, she worked her right arm under her shawl, a lacy, slippery thing that dribbled off her shoulder and attempted to fall to the floor.

Without thinking, Sam reached around her and snagged it before it flowed to the carpet. He held it in his hand and worked his fingers around the finely woven silk. It was the softest thing he'd ever felt, next to a woman's skin, that is.

"Um, my wrap?"

"Yeah," he chuckled and hoped that his face didn't show his embarrassment. Then he looked down into her eyes, and he got lost in their depths. "Uh, yeah, here you go." He held up the shawl and she took it from him. Her oval face had been made up by a professional. He'd been around enough rich women to know that. The makeup still couldn't hide the few wrinkles that appeared around her eyes, especially when she smiled at him. Her dark chestnut hair flowed in a soft frame around her face and cascaded over her bare shoulders in waves. He was close enough to know that it smelled like lavender and some other flower he couldn't place. Sam didn't care, because he was too enrapt in her eyes, and her lips which were full and looked thoroughly kissable. When she spoke, their movement made his pulse beat faster.

"Thank you Mr..."

"Uh, Axe. Sam Axe." He was so enthralled he forgot to use his alias. He wanted to kiss her hand, if not her lips, but the opportunity came and went in a moment.

A male hand clamped around her elbow. "Come along, dear. Our party is waiting."

As quickly as she appeared, she was gone. Sam turned and saw her backside sashay away in the royal blue dress with crystals all over it. It was sleeveless with a sweetheart neckline, the bodice encrusted with crystals. He knew that dress had to have cost a fortune, not that many rich women actually bought those frocks. From past relationships, he knew the women borrowed them for an evening and name dropped the designer all night long in exchange for the free use of the gown.

Damn, I don't even know her name! He watched her stop at a table with three other couples already seated. He knew some of the faces. They were attached to big money in Miami, and not all of them came by it honestly.

"Sam, how's it going," Michael muttered as he passed Sam from behind.

He ground his teeth in frustration over a lost opportunity. "It's going great. Just great."

Michael stopped. "I can tell by that tone that it's not going great. What's wrong?"

"See that woman over there? The one in the dark blue dress being seated at the table?" Sam locked his eyes on her again and it was obvious that he was hopelessly attracted to her.

"Yes," Michael answered as he followed his gaze, then looked at Sam. "She's with our man?"

"No! Mike, we bumped into each other."

Michael waited a beat.

"I know this is going to sound crazy," Sam said with a soft breath as if he'd just run ten miles. "But I think I'm in lo... like. I mean, she's really hot. Don't you think?" He tore his eyes away to meet his friend's amused expression.

He chuckled at Sam's breathless admission. His friend seemed to be attracted to a new woman once a week, at least one that caused him to speak with such emotion in his voice. "Did you get her name?"

"No!" He looked at his friend with a wounded expression. "And she's taken, so I doubt I'll get the chance."

"Maybe you'll get lucky and run into her again." Michael smiled. "Just keep an eye out for our guy."

"You got it." Sam mumbled and walked away, resigning himself to fantasizing about what might have been.


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2**

All evening Sam searched fruitlessly for their man. Now and then he caught sight of Michael and Fiona dancing or sitting with the couples at their table and chatting away like old friends. Meanwhile, Michael kept his eye on everyone around them. During the dinner, Sam hoped to wind up at their table, but he was seated with a group of strangers who all knew each other. As if he didn't feel enough like a fifth wheel, he had to be reminded of it for the rest of the evening, thanks to a bunch of people he didn't know.

"Mr. Finley, where's your date?" A homely looking woman sitting next to him in a dress that paled in comparison to the mystery woman's gown asked when it appeared that a Miss or a Mrs. Finley was not making an appearance.

He answered, "My wife died recently. We had these tickets before she..." He sniffled for added effect.

"Oh, I'm so sorry, Mr. Finley. So sorry!" She patted his arm.

Sam blinked away false tears. "Thank you. Thank you so much." He pulled out his handkerchief and pretended to swipe at the tears. "If you'll excuse me."

"Certainly, Mr. Finley. Please come back again."

He mumbled a non-committal answer and got up. The rest of the evening he spent on his feet combing the ballroom with no luck. He saw his mystery woman several times, dancing with her date once but sitting with him at the table the majority of the time, and as the evening wore on, he noticed that she seemed less than happy. At one point, she put her head close to his and they appeared to be having an argument. The scowl on her face was a dead giveaway. Sam couldn't help but keep watching, and he smiled when she stood up, grabbed her clutch from the table and her wrap from the chair back, and walked away. If he played it right, maybe they could collide again.

She hurried down the stairs and her shoe got caught in the hem of her flowing skirt. It was too late to stop fate as her feet lost their ground near the bottom and she went flying. She wanted to scream but no sound came out of her mouth. Her arms spread wide and she knew that the landing would be most embarrassing, whether or not it caused her to be injured. Then she saw him, the man she ran into earlier, and she thought it was most providential for him to appear when he did.

Sam looked up and saw her, and his eyes widened as he realized that she was on a collision course with the terrazzo floor. He quickened his pace and met her where she would have crashed to the floor and hit hard. Instead, his body took the energy of her momentum. His feet slipped a little on the floor, but he stayed upright.

"Oh!" She exclaimed with a look of shock on her face. She trembled as he held her in his arms and her feet dangled a few inches off the floor.

She looked at him and he apparently was just as surprised as she was. His wide brown eyes full of fear and concern mirrored her shock, but she was impressed with how quickly he recovered and a serious expression replaced the momentary stunned look. He loosened his grip and she slid down his strong body. Her high heeled sandals touched with a soft click and she felt solid floor. She was surprised to look up and see that because of her heels, he was taller by only a few inches.

"Are you okay," he asked, control in every syllable. His arms still wrapped around her waist as if he was afraid she would faint or do something ridiculous like that.

"I'm fine. Thank you." She smiled thinly, but she had to admit to herself that she shook yet from the rush of adrenaline. He, however, was rock solid and calm. "If you hadn't come along at the right time, I could have taken a nasty tumble. Thank you, Mr..."

"Axe. Remember? Sam Axe, we met earlier, although I didn't get your name." He flashed a smile that created a dimple in his left cheek.

She smiled wider as she placed a hand on the one he still kept at her waist and brushed it away. "Elsa. My name is Elsa Chatham."

"Chatham. As in Chatham Suites," Sam asked, connecting her name to the large hotel in South Beach.

"The very same. You're familiar with my hotel?"

Sam ducked his head. He'd had a few trysts there on various occasions. "I've been there a few times. Very nice place."

"Thank you." She looked down at the lacy ends of her shawl and pulled it up over her shoulders. "Well, if you'll excuse me, it's been a very long day and an even longer night."

He tried to hide his victorious smile. Whether it was jealousy or instinct, Sam didn't like the guy she'd chosen as her date. He hoped it was just a business decision and not a personal one. "Your date didn't go as well as you would have liked?"

She tilted her head and looked up at him, trying to calculate what he implied. She saw a playful spark in his eyes that for some crazy reason appealed to something deep inside her.

"Did you even get to dance," Sam asked.

"No." She shook her head, causing her hair to flip over her shoulders.

"Do you not dance, or did you want to and your date wasn't up for it?"

She laughed. It bothered her how close to the mark he was. "I don't know why you should care, Mr. Axe."

"Ms. Chatham, please call me Sam."

"Call me Elsa, Sam." Her smile returned.

The playful light in his eyes burned brighter. "Say, why don't we get out of here and go someplace a little less... stuffy?" He smiled at the uptick of her brows. "If you want to dance, I know a great place to shake your booty."

"Mr... Sam. I don't 'shake my booty'." She pulled away and walked around him, but he stopped her with a gentle hand on her elbow. Much gentler than her date had been. She turned back to him. "What do you want?"

Sam cast all lightness aside as he replied. "Just to spend a little time with the most beautiful woman who graced that ballroom tonight." He crooked an arm and asked, "Would you please do me the honor?"

He was incredibly charming, she had to give him that. He was handsome too. Older than most of the men she'd dated, but there was a youthful exuberance about him that she found attractive. "Alright. I can't stay out too late because I have to be in the office tomorrow. But I'm willing to take a chance on this great place you know for dancing."

"I know several places," Sam boasted. "But I think you'll really like this one."

When they emerged from the hotel, the two stood at the curb. Sam raised his arm to try to hail a taxi, but she put a hand on his sleeve and pulled it down. "We can take my car." The valet took her ticket and a few moments later her late model Cadillac sat in the loading zone in front of them.

"You mean Mr. Fancy Pants didn't even drive you to this shindig?"

Elsa laughed and shook her head. "We arrived in separate cars. It was just a business date. I have no interest in him romantically." Now why did she tell him that? It's not like it was any of his concern. For some reason, she already trusted him and sensed that with Sam she could feel safe, and she could tell him something like that and he would keep it to himself. Just to ensure he did, she said, "I'd appreciate it if you didn't tell anyone about that."

"Oh, my lips are sealed." He smiled wider, comforted in the fact that the other man had no claim on her.

Elsa smiled, took the keys, and moved toward the driver's side. She didn't expect Sam to follow her. The valet would have held the door and let her get in, but he practically elbowed the guy out of the way to do it himself. She hid a smile in the shadows as he trotted around to the passenger side.

He shut the door and gazed at her in the glow from the dash. She looked fantastic in the low lighting, and he had to fight the urge to kiss her.

"Is there something wrong," Elsa asked.

"No." He lied. Beneath his crisp white shirt, Sam's heart beat wildly. It was all he could do to keep himself calm and not give away his reaction to her.

She sobered. The moment when she first wished he would kiss her was gone. "You'll just have to tell me where we're going."

"I can put the address into your GPS and it'll get you there." He tapped a few keys and the voice instructed her where to turn.

The ballroom was in the heart of the city in an older part of town. It had been restored and brought back to the way it would have looked in the 1940s. The staff wore period clothing. A big band played a soft romantic piece when they entered and left Elsa's wrap at the coat check. Sam placed a gentle hand on her back, right above where the dress ended and her skin was exposed. She felt soft and warm there, and the contact sent a shiver down to his toes. She still smelled good, and he wondered if, when he held her in his arms and danced with her, she would be just as delicious. He didn't have long to wait.

At the edge of the dance floor, Sam turned her to face him and took her hand. Her clutch had a fine chain on it, which she used to let it dangle from the arm that reached around his shoulder. When they swayed and turned around the floor it swung against his sleeve, but he didn't mind. He was too busy getting lost in those hazel eyes to think about such things. Lavender and gardenias... yes, that was the flower he couldn't identify before. Wisps of lavender and gardenias followed as he stepped her around the dance floor. Now and then Elsa's foot came down in the wrong place. Once she even stepped on his toes.

"Sorry!" She grimaced and sucked in a small breath.

He only gave her a gracious smile and continued dancing. God help him, he was so attracted to her, Elsa could have dropped a skid load of bricks on his foot and he wouldn't have cared. His only desire at that point was to dance with her, to feel her pressed up against his body, to give her the tenderness that a lovely and precious woman like her deserved. The desire to kiss her built up inside him again, the pressure threatening to make him explode. But he couldn't. He shouldn't, not at this point. So he settled for dancing, sometimes cheek to cheek, sometimes at arm's length, but always together.

A misty rain fell as they exited the ballroom at closing time. In a replay of before, he opened Elsa's door, let her inside, and closed it. So it hadn't been a fluke, he really was that thoughtful. Elsa was extremely impressed.

"Where should I drop you off," she asked. "Do I need to take you back to the hotel to get your car?"

"No, I took a cab. Parking at one of those things is ridiculous!" Afraid to have her see where he lived or what he drove, Sam leaned across the console and deflected the conversation. "I know you said you had to work tomorrow, but couldn't you stay up just a wee bit longer?" He took her hand and rested it lightly in both of his. He massaged it in such a way that sent electricity through her body. "Would you go with me to this little diner I know of that's still open? Just one cup of coffee, that's all I'm asking." She bought drinks at the ballroom. The least he could do was buy her a cup of coffee.

Elsa sighed. She really should be going home and getting some sleep. Looking into those deep brown eyes again was a mistake. When she locked on them, all resolve went out the window. He charmed her so completely, she didn't want the night to end. It was sweet that he wanted to spend more time with her. Considering that she agreed, it couldn't have been more perfect.

"Okay. One cup, and I'm taking you home."

Grinning, Sam said, "You won't regret it, Elsa. I just know it."

The sun rose over the trees after countless cups of coffee, and Elsa and Sam knew that this good thing had to come to an end, at least for a little while. Before saying goodbye, Sam took her hands in his.

"Thank you, Elsa, for making this the most memorable night I've had in... well, a really, really long time." He grinned and laughed softly before sobering. "For your sake, I'm sorry I kept you up all night."

"I'm not sorry." She sighed and her eyes smiled along with her mouth. "It was the best time I've had in a really, really long time. Since my husband died, to tell you the truth."

He wanted to ask her how many men she'd seen since his death, but he didn't want to ruin the rapport he developed between them. Instead, he tentatively put his hands on her hips. Elsa licked her lips and placed her hands on the lapels of his tuxedo. Just the feather light touch of her fingers was enough to make him close his eyes and bask in the sensation. A slight movement of air startled him. For a moment he thought that it was a breeze from the ocean, but their bodies were angled the wrong way. Then her arms circled his shoulders, her bodice pressed into his shirt and he felt the glittery crystals emboss his chest through the fabric as her lips sought out his parted ones. Just as he suspected, they were soft and supple. Her breath tasted like coffee with cream and a little bit of sugar, although the sweetness of her kiss needed nothing to enhance it.

Sam's body came alive as he savored every moment of that kiss. His arms went around her upper body and he sensed the magic his lips created as he felt her respirations quicken. She wanted him. He wanted her. But one thing he knew to always be true: you always leave them wanting more. However, that advice didn't come without it's own sacrifice in that it wasn't easy for him to control himself and put on the brakes. He reluctantly broke the contact and caressed her face as he looked into the deep desire in her eyes.

"Will I see you again, Sam?" The words came out in a husky whisper. He knew then that he had enchanted her as much as she captivated him.

"If you want to. I'd love to see you again, Elsa." His words were soft. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a business card. "Here's my number."

She pulled a card out of her clutch. "And here's mine." She smiled at him, the glow of her attraction still on her face. "Are you sure I can't give you a ride?"

He groaned and rolled his head away, glancing at the lightening sky. "I wish, Elsa. But I have work to do, too. I'll call you later after we've both had some rest and a little bit of the day under our belts. Okay?"

"Okay. Thank you, Sam. I guess it was a good thing I went to that ball after all." She smiled, rested her hand against his cheek, the one with the charming dimple, and kissed him lightly. She let out a little sigh as she pulled away. Elsa went to her car and got in so fast, Sam didn't have time to break the spell and go around and be a gentleman. She waved and pulled away.

Sam returned the wave and stood on the curb until her car disappeared down the street. Then he could hardly believe that he'd experienced such an evening with such a gorgeous, interesting woman. The only evidence he had to prove that he hadn't dreamed it was the business card in his hand. He read it, held it tightly between his fingers, then stuffed it into his wallet where he wouldn't lose it. He knew where her hotel was, but that card was a concrete line to her. Without it, he might convince himself that none of it ever happened. Sam walked back to his apartment, all the way feeling like his feet never touched the ground as he traveled the sidewalk. He was too busy reliving every moment, relishing the casual conversation, the kind couples engage in when on a first date. Even if it wasn't officially a date.

If she'd been an asset, or a part of an investigation, he would have had more than enough intel to either make her life a complete heaven or hell. But this was personal. Two hearts were involved, and he'd much rather use what he learned to please her, because in the end she would please him, and for however long they had, they would be happy. Sam wouldn't be alone.

He whistled a light tune as he approached his door, already daydreaming about the next time he and Elsa would meet. They hadn't set up a date, but no doubt they would have one soon. He was reassured that the he hadn't lost his mojo. Sam Axe, romantic, was alive and well.


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter 3**

Sam's car was parked in front of the apartment. Michael parked next to it, approached the door, and knocked. There was no answer. "Sam. Sam, it's Michael." After a minute or so of knocking and no answer, his frustration level rose.

"He's not here." Fiona said, as if he needed confirmation.

"I can see that. But his car is here, so where is he?"

She shook her head. "I don't know. He probably took a taxi to the ball last night, and that's why his car is here. As to where he is now, I don't know."

"Why hasn't he called?" Michael asked. He paced back to Sam's car and looked inside. Nothing seemed to be amiss. "Maybe he found Leeman, and he was tailing him all night."

"He would have called if he were." Fiona took a sip of coffee from a styrofoam cup and smiled. "I think he found himself a new lady friend."

"Don't be ridiculous, Fi. He was in the middle of a job."

"Oh, like no spy has ever found his true love while working." Fiona let out a little laugh and leaned into Michael's side.

"Fi." He shrugged her off, but he couldn't help smiling a little. "This is different."

"Really? I think you're making this out to be worse than it is. I'm sure it's something completely innocent."

"Maybe he was in a situation where he couldn't call. No, he would have texted. I wish he'd contact us somehow. Where could he be?" Michael leaned against the Charger's hood in front of Sam's door,

Fiona shielded her eyes against the morning sunlight and smirked. "Well, well. There's Romeo." She jutted her chin toward the tuxedo-clad man walking to the apartment building.

Michael stared at him. "How do you know?"

She shrugged. "A girl just knows, Michael. Just think of it as one of those mysteries of the universe and leave it at that."

He wondered at the distracted look on Sam's face, and how he walked with his hands in his pockets and whistled. Other than the fact that he came home in the early morning, his tux coat open, bow tie undone and his shirt a little rumpled, there was nothing to indicate that he'd been in danger or something dramatic happened. Sam had to have been tailing Leeman, but how, without his car? What did he get himself into? Michael crossed his arms, waiting.

"Hi Sam," Fiona greeted him with a light cheery voice.

Michael approached him too quickly. "Sam, where have you been?"

Although he was in his own little world, Sam heard the irate voice, stopped in his tracks before his door, and turned to face the voice with a fighting stance. His eyes focused on his friend and he immediately relaxed. "Hey, Mikey. Fi." He fished his keys out of his pocket and unlocked the door. "What brings you two out here this morning?"

"We were worried about you," Michael replied as he stepped up to him. "We didn't see when you left the hotel last night, and I tried calling you, but you never picked up."

"Oh yeah, I forgot about that." He pulled out his phone and saw that he missed several calls from Michael and Fiona and they left messages. "I turned the ringer off."

"Why'd you do that?"

Sam held up a hand. "Easy, Mike. Come on, come inside before you wake up the addicts and get 'em mad." He let them into his room and he followed, closing the door behind him. "Remember that woman, the one in the gorgeous blue dress? Well, she literally fell into my arms, Mike! I mean, how often does that happen?"

"You... you left the ball to chase a piece of…."

Sam pointed at him and exclaimed, "Hey, have some respect! Elsa's classier than that."

Fiona placed a calming hand on Michael's shoulder but he shrugged it off and took a step toward Sam. "What's the matter with you?"

"I didn't plan on it, Mike! It just happened! Besides, I was all over that place several times and I never saw him!" Sam turned to a chair, dropped his tuxedo jacket on it and pulled the bow tie from around his neck and lay it on the seat. As he removed the cufflinks, a gift from a former lady friend, he continued with his eyes on Michael. "Elsa almost planted her face into the floor. She would have been hurt if I hadn't been there."

"You should have been watching..."

Dropping the cufflinks on the desk, Sam turned and closed in on Michael. "Oh, and what were you doing, huh, Mikey? I saw you and Fi waltzing all around that floor for a good part of the night while I was doing a search. Until Elsa fell, I was working." Sam got into his space and poked him in the chest. "I checked the perimeter. I mingled. I did everything you asked me to do and he just... wasn't... there. Get over it!"

"Boys! I think everyone just needs to settle down a bit here." Fiona wedged herself between them and pushed Michael away from Sam. "Both of you sit down and just shut up for a few minutes."

When Michael seated himself on the edge of the bed and Sam sat on a chair at a table near the window, Fiona smiled. She took a chair at the desk next to the dresser, turned and straddled it so she could see both men. No words passed among them for several minutes.

"Mike, I'm sorry," Sam spoke first. "I really thought our mission was a bust last night. I should have let you know I was leaving, but you know, there are some times you go off and don't tell anyone where you're going, so..."

"But it's for a good reason. Going off with a woman to..."

Sam's voice was equally as loud. "It wasn't like that! We never even slept together."

"Really?" Fiona looked at him, unable to believe that Sam could just pick up a date so easily and not even take her for a spin.

"Really." He grinned at her, quickly forgetting Michael's anger and eager to tell someone, anyone, about the new woman he'd found. "We went dancing at the Flagler Ballroom, and then we wound up at a cafe not far from here drinking coffee and talking from closing time at the ballroom until the sun came up."

Fiona rested her chin on her folded arms resting on the chair back and asked with a sly smile, "So, what's she like?"

"Aw, Fi, Elsa is an angel." Sam's face took on a dreamy expression. "She's beautiful, rich, smart, funny, and believe it or not, she's attracted to my charm. I can't wait to go out with her again."

"When will that be?" Michael asked, afraid he wouldn't be around again when he was needed. He kept his eye on Sam and his mind was in disbelief that Sam could fall for a woman so fast. Then again, when Michael met Fiona, it was almost love at first sight. After just one look, he knew he wanted to be with her.

"I told her I would call her today to arrange something." Still smarting from the dressing down he received, he asked warily. "Why?"

"We still have to find our man, Trevor Leeman. Remember the international arms dealer we were trying to find at the fundraiser last night?"

Sam sighed deeply as he got up and placed the cufflinks into a small jewelry box he kept on his dresser. "Frankly, I think we just missed him all around and he's probably already left the country."

Michael leaned back on the bed and stared at the ceiling. "He was a key to finding more information on Anson."

Sam looked at his friend with pity and empathy. He understood Michael's reasons for finding Anson and taking him down. Sam would feel the same way if someone burned him. It was just going to take some time, but Michael had a knack for being impatient sometimes.

"I know that, Mike. Tell you what. I'll make some calls to my buddies and check if anyone's seen any sign of Leeman. Until I hear something back... I'm going to try to get some sleep. If that's okay with you."

"All nighters are hell on older guys," Fiona teased. She got out of her chair and patted Sam's arm. "Don't let Michael's mood get to you. I hope things work out with you and this woman, Elsa."

"I hope so too, Fi. Elsa is..." His last of his defensiveness was swept away by the smile on his face. "She's something special."

"Come along, Michael. We'll do some digging of our own. We know his likes and dislikes. Maybe we can check every sweet shop between here and South Miami to see if he's been around." One of the things that their quarry loved was handmade chocolate. If Leeman weren't so nasty, Fiona might have liked him with his affinity for chocolate and guns. But he was allied with an evil man, and that trumped everything else.

"Call me when you get something, anything," Michael urged him with an index finger pointed for emphasis. He was still agitated about losing Leeman, but he'd cooled down considerably. With a small smile, he said, "And congratulations, Sam. I hope Elsa turns out to be everything you want her to be."

"Thanks. You know I'll call if my buddies find anything. Even if they don't, I'll let you know."

"Just make sure you don't turn off your phone or shut off the ringer. There could have been an emergency, and you would never have known." Michael's tone turned from scolding to concerned.

Sam nodded in agreement. After the couple left he locked the door and made his calls. Then he slipped out of his dress shoes and shucked the suspenders from his shoulders. He dropped forward onto the bed fully clothed, because he was just too tired to take everything off before going to sleep. His phone he set on the night stand and he stored his gun under the other pillow. It was an ingrained habit. What would he do if he and Elsa got together and they eventually shared a bed? Where would he put his gun then? As Sam drifted off to sleep, he decided he would worry about that when the time came.

He regretted making the mistake of leaving Michael and Fiona without a word and continuing to leave them in the dark all night. But he would never wish he hadn't met Elsa. She filled his thoughts as he drifted off to sleep. When he woke up he would call her and set a date.

* * *

"Michael, you were being way too hard on Sam."

"He knows I'm right." Michael drove the Charger back to the loft. "He knows better not to go silent when we're in the middle of an investigation."

Fiona let out a deep breath. "Of course. God forbid anyone have a life."

Michael glanced at her, unable to read her expression. He knew she was angry with him, but he couldn't see why. "What do you mean? We have a life. We were at that ball last night, and I thought you enjoyed yourself."

"I did, very much so." Fiona gave him a smile, but she quickly changed back to a serious expression. "But Sam was working for hours walking around. I don't know if he even ate dinner."

"You saw him?"

"Yes. He was quite intense about the assignment, if you ask me." She glanced out the window for a moment then turned back to him. "There was a minute or so where he watched someone on the dance floor. Us. He was watching us, Michael, and I could see the longing in his eyes even from where we were. He's not as lucky as we are, so you shouldn't begrudge him a little happiness just because you're miserable trying to lock down Anson."

"I'm not miserable." Michael denied it half-heartedly because he knew Fiona was right. "I'm just focused, that's all."

"You can't be focused all the time, and last night was a chance for you to relax for awhile. Sam got the job done while you were having fun. So don't get all high and mighty when you were slackin' off, mister."

Michael chuckled as he turned the car and drove into the courtyard. He put it into park and faced her. "Alright, you have a point. Next time I see Sam I'll apologize. Okay?"

"Okay. So, what are we going to do today about Leeman?"

"We have to wait to see what Sam's buddies can discover. No doubt if he's left the country, he didn't go by commercial airline. I'll do some checking with some of my sources and see if they come up with anything."

"Alright." Fiona got out of the car and followed Michael upstairs. She reached up to place her hands on his shoulders as he unlocked the loft, and she sensed the tension in them. "Oh my, you are awfully tight, Michael. I think it's time for a little break."

"No, Fi."

"Yes, Michael." She closed the door behind her and smiled at him. He backed up and she continued to come at him like a wild cat on the prowl.

"There's a lot to do."

"No there isn't, not until we get new intel." She removed her t-shirt, distracting him with the sight enough to allow her to close the space between them. Her arms went around his body, trapping him, and her lips completed the conquest. With a shifting of her weight, he fell backwards on the bed, and by then, all hope of struggling against her was futile. She had him, and he had no desire to be anywhere but with her and loving her.

Later on, as they lay in a tangle of sheets, the guilt over wasting time hit him. But a part of him punched back. He did feel a lot less tense. He needed this. Michael also knew that the next time he saw Sam, he had some major apologizing to do, because he'd basically done the same thing that Sam did the night before. He abandoned the search for a little rest and relaxation. Maybe some day he'd learn that life wasn't all work, and he wouldn't be so hard on himself or others when they took a much needed break.


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter 4**

Before he dialed the number on the business card, Sam debated whether he should call Michael first and clear it with him. He shook his head. He wasn't a kid anymore. He was free to do what he wanted, when he wanted to do it. If Mike didn't like it, tough. The phone rang before he could decide. It was one of his buddies.

"He's gone, Sam. Rumor has it he's gone to France. Whatever he was here for, he did the job and bugged out. Sorry I don't have good news."

Sam relayed the messages to Michael's voicemail and closed the connection. Then he stared at his phone and asked, "So Mikey, where are you? Why aren't you picking up your phone, huh?" He felt ashamed of himself for resorting to a moment of childishness, but it was far too tempting. Still feeling a bit tired, Sam flopped back onto the bed and looked up at the ceiling.

A sense of paranoia struck him. What if Elsa wasn't who she said she was? In all the time he'd had relationships with rich Miami women, every one of them ended for various reasons, but never because she pretended to be something she wasn't. Married. Couldn't accept his work. Wanted a commitment when he couldn't provide it. Or she was crazy. That always unsettled him. After the last one he took a break. Partly because of Anson his own life was becoming too intense. If he was ever going to get back into the race with Elsa, he needed to make sure she was not only the real deal, but find out if she had something lurking in her past or present that would be of concern. Michael was already angry with him about skipping out on an assignment. He didn't need him blowing his stack because she was a double agent or something.

Sam got up and dressed in street clothes, grabbed his computer, and headed for the diner. He needed some coffee to wake up and use the free wifi spot to do some research on Elsa Chatham. A part of him wondered if this was even a good time to attach himself to a woman. She would distract him. Who was he kidding? Not having a woman in his life was distracting enough! He'd become more focused and disciplined after working with Michael for so long, but there were times when a pretty head could still turn his.

Having a woman in his life would definitely have a positive effect, if it was the right one. She would be there when he needed to relax and keep him grounded. Unlike Michael, Sam knew when it was necessary to chill and have a good time. He missed the thrill of there being someone to come home to who gave him kisses and wrapped herself around him when he had a bad day. With each step, he envisioned what he needed in a relationship and what he could give in return.

By the time he reached the diner, his mind was made up. Once he was certain that Elsa checked out, he would call her and set up a date. A real date this time, not just a serendipitous meeting. His friends checked in with more intel while he worked, so it was quite a productive morning over coffee and a plate of the breakfast special. He drained his last cup, shut down the computer, and smiled. He had some information for Michael, and he learned a lot more about Elsa Chatham. All of it was good news.

Sam decided to call Michael first. "Hey Mike, it's me."

"Did your friends come up with something?"

"Oh yeah. Leeman is in France right now. I have the name of the city where they think he is. I e-mailed you the info."

"Great. Thanks, Sam!" He hesitated. "Look, I'm sorry about earlier this morning. I had no right to jump on you like that."

"No, you were right. I should have let you know I came up with nothing and was leaving. So, what's our next move?"

Back to business. Sam couldn't hear it, but Michael smiled. "Looks like Fi and I need to go to France."

"Mike, are you serious? You're probably still on the no-fly lists. Now that we know where he is, maybe we can track him from here somehow."

"No, even if I have to arrange a new ID or whatever, we're going. I don't want to lose him."

Sam knew there was no dissuading Michael when he was this stubborn. "Okay. You need me to work up something for you?"

"I think I might have something still sitting around here. If not, I'll let you know. Thanks, Sam."

"No problem." Sam was about to hang up when Michael spoke.

"Sam, while we're gone..."

"Yeah, I know. Keep an ear to the ground for anything on Anson. Don't worry, Jesse and I can handle this."

Michael let out a soft laugh. "No, I was going to say have fun with Elsa. Just be careful with her."

"I'm already two steps ahead of you there, brother. I checked her out and she's clean. Bon voyage, Mike. I'll talk to you later."

Sam paid his bill and left the diner. As he walked back to the apartment, his phone rang. He eyed the number but didn't recognize it. "Hello?"

"Hello. Is this Sam Axe?"

"Yes it is." A lazy smile spread across his face. "Elsa?"

"Yes, it's me, Sam. I... I've been thinking about you all morning. It's almost noon. How would you like to meet me at the hotel and we can have lunch together?"

Sam glanced down at his full stomach and back up to where he was going. "Sure, Elsa! I'd love to!" Somehow he'd make it through, because the only thing he wanted to feast on was her with his eyes. "I'll be there in, oh, about a half hour."

"Great! I'll meet you in the lobby."

"Great." His smile widened. "I'll see you then." He hung up and slipped his phone into his pocket. He felt as if he floated on air as his steps quickened and he arrived at the apartment. He got into the old car he used as transportation these days and drove to the hotel. He would have to park a couple blocks away and walk, because if she saw what he was driving... he didn't even want to think about how fast she'd drop him. Maybe it was time to take some of that money he'd saved up and buy himself a better set of wheels so he wouldn't look so pathetic.

Her legs. That's what Sam saw first as he trotted up the steps into the lobby. Last night they were covered by the long skirt, but today she wore a soft pink suit with a tight fitting skirt that hovered above her knees, showing off well-toned legs balanced on feet adorned with matching high heeled pumps. His eyes roved up to her tailored jacket and the white blouse. His eyes stopped for a moment at the v-neck showing a little bit of cleavage, then followed the line of bare skin up to her graceful neck and her face that lit up at the sight of him.

"Sam." The way Elsa said his name, it felt like a balmy breeze on a chilly day. Or at least a comforting warmth against the cool, conditioned air. "I'm so glad you could make it."

"Me too." He closed the distance between them, took her in his arms, and gave her a platonic hug. He would have preferred to do a lot more, but staff members were watching and he didn't want to embarrass her in front of them. "I've got some down time right now, so this was perfect."

Elsa took hold of his arm as she studied him from head to toe. He saw the conflict in her eyes. She was happy to see him, but she didn't quite expect this. He knew he should have worn a suit! Except that wasn't him, and if she didn't like him the way he was, maybe he was better off finding out now before he fell hard for her.

"Something wrong, Elsa?" He asked, bracing himself for the worst.

"No. I just didn't expect you to dress so casually." Her worried eyes moved up to his.

He smiled. "I'm sorry. This is how I usually dress unless I need to upgrade for a job."

"What kind of work do you do?"

The night before, they talked about all sorts of things and about themselves, but Sam never touched on what he did because he was still wary of placing his trust in the wrong woman. It was a hazard of his job, even though he was extremely attracted to her.

Sam's smile widened and he said, "Why don't we talk about this over lunch?"

Elsa hesitated for a few seconds while Sam held his breath. This was it, the make it or break it moment. His heart hammered in his chest, hoping that she wouldn't choose to end things now simply based upon his wardrobe. Surely she couldn't be that shallow! Despite the cool air, Sam felt beads of perspiration form at the small of his back. It seemed to take an eternity for her to speak, and he wasn't sure he could handle much more of the silence. He would have been surprised to learn that it had only been a couple of seconds.

Elsa spun on her heel and headed for the front entrance. "Let's go. I had a reservation in the hotel restaurant, but I have something else in mind." She smiled, a hint of discomfort pulling at her upper lip.

Sam got the message. She was disappointed in him and was afraid that his khakis and Hawaiian shirt would give people the wrong impression if they walked into the gourmet restaurant in her hotel. Feeling like he was on probation under intense scrutiny, he let Elsa lead him to her destination. Until she hit the sidewalk Elsa kept some distance, but now she walked with barely an inch of space between them. Maybe she had reservations, but in his book, he was willing to give it a shot. Her hand bumped against his, and he dared to reach for hers. He felt a rush as her fingers curled around his. Her smile was more relaxed when she looked at him. Behind her sunglasses, a pair of expensive designer specs, he couldn't see her eyes. He was starting to feel a little better about their new relationship.

Why was he so insecure about what was happening? In the past, he just enjoyed the moment, lived it to its fullest, and when it ended like a firework fizzling out into the night, he didn't feel sorrow or regret over its loss. Elsa was different. He recognized that, even though they hardly knew each other.

To his surprise, they wound up at Carlito's. Sam figured that if he had to suffer through her examination, thankfully he could at least do it on his own turf. And to her surprise, he pulled out a chair for her at a table off to the side, helped her sit, and then took the seat to her left. She picked up the menu to look at it, but he didn't bother. He knew it by heart. Instead, he rested his chin in his hand and watched her.

"Hi, Sam."

He glanced up and recognized the server. "Consuela. Hi."

"Will Michael, Fiona and Jesse be joining you today?"

"No, Mike and Fi are out of town. Jesse's working on something. It's just me and Elsa today." He smiled at Consuela while he leaned back in his chair and rested his hand on the back of Elsa's chair. Elsa watched the exchange without saying a word.

Consuela nodded. "Did you want to order some drinks before your meal?"

Sam looked at Elsa. "Did you want anything?"

"Yes. I'll have a white wine spritzer with cranberry juice." She turned her head toward Sam and waited with expectation in her eyes.

"I'll have a mojito. You know that." He winked at Consuela, who giggled at him and took their drink order to the bar.

"I take it you frequent this place a bit." Elsa wore a sly smile.

"Yeah," Sam replied with a sigh. "My friends and I have found this is a good place to talk about our business and meet clients."

"Clients? So, what do you do, Sam?" She set aside the menu, crossed her legs, and leaned her body closer to him.

The drinks arrived. Consuela set them down before them and hurried away, her eyes on Sam's new lady friend. Neither of the two was aware of her interest, only in each other.

"It's... complicated." He took a drink of his mojito. "My friend Mike started helping people, and he needed some backup. So his girlfriend Fiona and I got into it with him, and now Jesse helps us when he can."

"How does he 'help' people?" She looked at Sam, confused.

Consuela came back and took their lunch orders, then disappeared again as quickly as she appeared.

"If someone is being extorted, or harassed, and the cops don't want to do anything to help, they come to us. You've got someone missing, kidnapped, swindled, whatever, we're the team to talk to." Sam beamed with pride.

"This isn't regular work, is it?" She took a sip of her drink.

"Unfortunately it isn't. I'm retired from the Navy, so I get a pension, and that helps fill in the gap." He let out a breath and tapped his fingertips on the table and his thumb picked up the corner of his napkin and flicked it. "I'm sorry if you thought I was rich or something. To tell you the truth, I'm pretty far from it. But I get by, and I'm relatively happy with the way things are. If only..." If only we could get to the bottom of things with Anson and end these games. He didn't say that, because then he'd have to explain. Not only was it too complicated, he would be giving away secrets that were on a need to know basis, and she didn't need to know.

"If only..."

"I'm sorry, Elsa. I can't talk about it. It's... classified."

The corner of Elsa's mouth tipped up. "Classified. Do you work for the government? Is that what you really do?"

"I can't really talk about it." He faced her and took the hand she rested on the table. His thumb ran over the back of it as he spoke. "I think, before this goes any further, you need to know that there are a lot of things in my life, past and present, that I can't reveal. I was a SEAL, and practically my whole career is off limits for discussion unless you're an admiral or the President in disguise."

Elsa laughed, but she saw the look in his eyes and knew he wasn't kidding. She shook her head. "No, I'm neither of those. I'm just a woman who met a guy last night, a handsome and charming man who swept her off her feet. Literally." The smile returned, and she turned her hand in his and squeezed it.

"Ah, so now the dream is fading and you're wondering what you got yourself into." Sam nodded. "I don't blame you, Elsa. Your prince is just a frog."

"No, you're not, Sam! It's not true, and I'm sorry if I made you think that." It was her turn to rub the back of his hand with her thumb. "Granted, I didn't expect to find you dressed for Carlito's rather than Chez Romero, but that's my fault. I should have told you I had reservations. And if your profession seems strange, maybe I need to get my head out of my office now and then and experience the rest of the world." Her smile warmed him as she leaned closer and spoke softer. "Sam, will you show me what's outside my hotel? I'm afraid I spend too much time there or with wealthy people playing the game of one-upmanship. I need someone to help keep my feet on the ground. Can you do that?"

"I'm sure I can." He moved closer and put his arm around her. Elsa took refuge in his light embrace and touched her lips to his. Sam felt the electricity again when they kissed. It shot straight from his head to his toes and back again, and like a magnet he was stuck to her.

When they parted, Elsa licked her lips and smiled. "That was just as good as last night."

"Of course. Just because I'm not wearing a tux, doesn't mean I can't kiss."

She laughed. "What else can you do without a tux? Can you dance?"

"Better than you," he teased.

Her cheeks reddened. "Please don't remind me. I was so embarrassed that I stepped on your toes."

"My toes are fine," Sam said before cradling her chin with his hand and turning her into his waiting lips. He played with hers, taking the top lip, then the bottom, and ending with both locked with his. Her mouth responded, opening to him. Her tongue sought his, and when they danced it was with more grace than her feet could produce the night before.

Neither of them heard Consuela set their plates on the table. When she saw the two kissing, she knew what was coming next. She left the check under the coaster beneath Elsa's drink and went in search of two to-go boxes.


	5. Chapter 5

**Chapter 5**

The phone in Sam's pocket vibrated. Sam would have rather left it go to voicemail, but after his blowup with Michael, he thought better of it. He groaned and stopped in mid-stride, and he held out the boxes. "Elsa, can you hold these a minute?"

"Sure." She took the boxes and they continued walking while Sam talked on the phone.

"Yeah, Mike. What's up?"

All the while he talked with Michael, Sam felt her eyes on him. He'd never had a woman study him so intently while he did something so simple and ordinary. He snuck a sideways glance at her and noticed the hunger in her eyes that he knew had nothing to do with food. It made him hot to know that she was hot for him, so he did what he could to get his friend to end the conversation without being rude and yet pay attention to what he was saying.

"Yeah, yeah, I'll take care of that, Mike."

"You're with her, aren't you." The tone was slightly accusing, slightly amused.

"Yep. And I've got things to do, but I'll get right on that as soon as I can."

Michael laughed, to Sam's surprise. "Have fun. We should be getting on the plane soon, so I probably won't be able to talk until much later."

"Good luck. Oh, and try to have a little fun while you're there, will ya? Loosen up!"

"I'll try. Thanks, Sam."

Elsa wore an indulgent smile while she watched him finish up the conversation. He gave her a smile tinged with chagrin. "Sorry about that. That was my friend Mike."

"I got that."

Sam took the boxes and put his arm around her again. "Now, where were we?"

"We're going back to the hotel to spend a little more time getting to know each other." As if to further remind him, she planted a kiss on his lips.

"We should get going then." He returned the kiss and held her close as they walked to the hotel that loomed upward and blocked the afternoon sun.

The couple entered the lobby, and Elsa immediately pulled away. Sam would have felt slighted, but then he remembered the looks they received earlier because of an innocent hug. She didn't need to explain. He understood. Elsa led him to her office, and on the way she ducked her head inside a smaller office to the side and told the woman to hold all her calls for the afternoon and reschedule her appointments. Elsa led him inside a large room and locked the door.

"This is your office, huh?" He whistled. It was huge.

"You can put those boxes in the refrigerator under the bar." She indicated the wood and glass modern piece of furniture to her right, and she walked to her desk and checked the surface. A sound of disgust came from her. "I go away for an hour for lunch and come back to find eight messages waiting!"

Sam straightened from putting away the boxes and shutting the refrigerator door. "If you have work to do, maybe I should go." That's the last thing he wanted to do.

"It's okay. None of these are really important." She quickly rifled through the pink slips as she let out a breath. "My assistant can take care of half of these on her own. I'll be right back." Her heels clacked on the tile as she strode to the door. She stopped in front of Sam, gave him a lingering kiss, and said, "Why don't you get us some drinks while you're waiting?" She smiled and brushed past him before continuing on with her mission.

That last kiss left Sam's lips tingling. He turned back to the bar and poured them a couple glasses of whatever she had in the decanter on the top. He took a sip. It was really fine bourbon that must have cost her a few bucks. He took his glass and wandered around the room. It was larger than any office he'd ever seen. In the center of the room near the desk were two comfortable chairs with a wood and glass table that matched the bar, the desk, and other pieces of furniture in the room. Some of the walls glowed with warm honey colored paneling that accented nicely against the aqua, black, and white fabrics on the furniture and around the room. The modern art on the walls harmonized with the color and style. It was very chic retro. He liked it.

Sam skirted around the desk, noting the neat surface. Her inbox was kept in order. Only a few nick knacks shared space with some color coordinated office supplies on her desk. On the credenza she kept a line of photographs. In one Elsa and a man held each other tightly and grinned at the camera. He was about Sam's age if he had to guess. In the picture beside it, she and the man stood with a younger man between them who bore a slight resemblance to Elsa with his hair color, but he obviously took after his dad. He heard the door creak and straightened, his eyes wide, afraid he'd been caught snooping.

Elsa locked the door, approached the bar and picked up her drink, and crossed the room to meet him.

"Elsa, I was just looking at your photos."

"It's okay, you can do that." She took a sip and set her glass on the credenza. She slipped her arms up and around his shoulders. "The reason you're here is for us to get to know one another better."

Pulled in by the lure of her soft lips, Sam abandoned his glass next to hers and took her into his arms. He ran his hands up her back and tightened his hold until he could feel through her clothes that she was perfectly lined up with his body. She moaned. The sound added fuel to his desire. There was one thing he needed to know first, because he couldn't go jumping in headfirst if it was true. She hadn't been wearing a ring on her left hand, but that didn't mean anything.

It took all his discipline to tear his lips away from Elsa's. Her breath came out in short gasps and she looked up at him with eyes that showed she was drowning with desire.

"What's... what's wrong," she breathed.

"I have to know." He looked into her eyes to see the truth when he asked. "Are you married?"

"No. My husband died three years ago." She bit her bottom lip, looked up at him and added, "Sam, you're the first... the first man I've been interested in since he died."

"Oh, Elsa." Her name came out gruffly, and he closed his eyes and kissed her again. He took his time, letting his hands run over her body and she responded by running her hands over his back.

As he heated her up, Elsa became more bold. She ran a hand under his shirt and up inside. The contact of the pads of her fingers against his skin set his nerve endings on fire. He wasn't sure how much more he could take. She unbuttoned his shirt and pushed it off his shoulders. The undershirt went next, and as she returned to roaming his chest with her hands, she spoke his name.

"Sammy," she whispered, and that was enough.

He laid a hand on her thigh, and with it he pushed up her skirt. The things he did caused her to moan louder. He removed his hand and picked her up, set her on the edge of her desk, and unbuttoned her suit jacket. She stripped out of it and flung it away with a smile that would light up a city at night. Elsa leaned back and swept all of her organized clutter off the surface, wrapped her legs around Sam's hips, and pulled him down as she lay across the surface. Sam wasn't expecting this, but he was eager to play along.

Hands worked at his belt and pants, while he continued to undress and tease her. He placed light kisses on her neck, burning a path down her body to her stomach. The skirt bunched up around her waist, but she didn't care. Her mouth hung open and she arched her back as she felt her release. Sam watched in awe of the power of her passion. He bided his time, waiting until she rose again to meet him. He pulled her to the edge of the desk and she greedily took him in.

Someone knocked on the door, and Sam froze. Their breaths chugged like an out of control freight train.

"Go away," Elsa cried out, then her eyes crinkled up as she laughed and reached for him. "It's just my assistant, don't mind her. Just love me, Sammy."

It didn't take long for them to get back to where they left off, and Elsa cried out again, only this time with Sam's name ringing out. She sent him over the edge, soaring with her, and when he was done he dropped into her office chair, taking her with him. He thought she would be sated, but Elsa wanted more. It was her turn to flip the switch, and though she sometimes fumbled through her actions, he let her take him higher.

She chuckled and nibbled at his ear. "Glad I bought the wider chair. Never thought I'd need it, but it sure comes in handy."

Elsa was like a wildcat uncaged when Sam worked his magic on her. He suspected that her relationship with her husband had been quite bland, but under his touch, she unleashed all her pent up passion. They spent the afternoon and themselves, taking a break to nibble on their cold Cuban sandwiches before going another round on the couch. He was glad he was in decent shape, because by the time the sun was going down, she had him worn out.

"Sammy, stay the night."

Sam was half in his pants and turned to look at her. "Elsa, I'd love to, but..." The pleading in her eyes was his downfall, and he knew that going forward, all she'd have to do is give him those eyes and he would do anything for her. He sighed deeply. "Okay. But I really have to work tomorrow."

"So do I. Just stay for tonight. I have a suite upstairs, and I can order room service."

He finished pulling up his pants, fastened them and turned to her. "Sure, I'll stay. You don't have to ask again." He kissed her and she molded into him. She felt really good, and now that he had another taste of her sweetness, he really didn't want to leave. He forced himself to step back and finish dressing, and she did the same. A mirror strategically placed near the exit assisted them in making sure that they looked presentable. Elsa, satisfied with the way her outfit came back together, ran a brush through her hair, tucked it into her desk and looked down at the mess on the floor.

"Oh no, I can't leave this."

"Do you want any help?" He made a move toward a stack of files that managed to fall without spilling all over the floor.

"No! There's, um, confidential things in those files."

Sam scoffed as he stood and placed the folders on her desk. "Elsa, I've dealt with confidential a good part of my life. Trust me, I can put these back without looking at them, and if I do see anything, it's not going out of this room. Understand?"

She looked up at him from her crouched position on the floor. At first, she was torn, but a spark of trust softened her eyes. "Okay." She nodded. "Let's get this straightened up. Just pile up the folders and I'll deal with them tomorrow."

"They fell just right, I think I can get them back in the right places." He set a stack of red folders to the left of her chair where they fell, and the manila and other colored folders were on the right side. The papers slid out of some of them, but he put back what he could. Elsa retrieved the rest of the items from the floor and put everything back in its place.

She surveyed the results and nodded her head. "Not bad. Although, I think next time I'll reconsider wantonly pushing everything off the desk." She and Sam laughed. Then she threaded her arm through his and together they walked out of the office. The assistant's office was dark and locked, which Elsa checked in passing. When they reached the lobby, she took his hand and led him across it to the elevators.

"Mrs. Chatham, a moment of your time, please." A man in his late 50s and impeccably dressed walked up to her right side with long strides.

"What is it, Hector?" She stopped and disengaged her hand from Sam's, turning away from him to address the other man.

"The Emir arrived this afternoon, but there have been... issues." Hector answered while his eyes stared at Sam.

"What kind of issues, Hector? Is the suite not suitable?"

He tore his attention from Sam back to Elsa. "It's fine, but some of the requests for the kitchen have been hard to fill, and his entourage has been creating disturbances for the guests in the other suite. They asked to be moved and for a refund of the difference."

"I hope you accommodated them."

"Yes, madam."

"Good. Throw in a free breakfast from room service tomorrow morning. If the Emir keeps it up, well, he'll have to deal with me tomorrow. As for the kitchen, have the manager order what he needs to satisfy their dietary needs. Handle this Hector."

"Yes, madam."

"Oh, Sam, this is Hector Gonzales. He's our concierge. Hector, this is Sam Axe. He'll be spending the night with me in my suite. Please don't disturb us unless there's a fire, a hurricane, or anything earth shattering. Understand?"

"Yes, madam. Good night, Mr. Axe."

"Night, Hector," Sam addressed him.

"Goodnight, Hector." Elsa led the way to the elevator.

The elevator opened onto a small lobby that led to three doors, one to the right, one to the left, and one in the middle. To the right, he heard strains of Middle Eastern music and laughter. He silently hoped that they would go left, and when Elsa turned in that direction, he breathed a silent sigh of relief.

"You know, if you need me to I could go over there and talk to them." Sam volunteered. "My Farsi is pretty rusty, but I have a friend... oh, wait, he's on his way to... overseas right now."

"It's okay." Elsa smiled at his near slip of information. She remembered that he kept confidential things to himself. "I'm just glad he didn't have a room on one of our regular floors. These emirs stay here a lot, and we just grin and bear it because they pay good money. Some of them go totally American while they're here, but now and then..." She trailed off, opened the door, turned on the foyer light, and let him inside. "I'd rather not talk about that. One of my rules is when I pass through this door, there is no more talk of business." She closed and locked the door behind her and swept her arm toward the large room before them. "This is my sanctuary from the craziness downstairs. I have a home, but sometimes I just need to get away for a few hours, so I come up here."

"How many homes do you have?" Sam took in the modern furnishings and tidiness. Everything had a place, like in her office, and it looked more like a showcase than a living area.

"Just one. I don't have time for multiple homes and condos all over the world. When I'm on business I stay in competitor's hotels, just to spy on them." A smile crossed her face and she tapped her mouth with a finger. "There I go, talking business." She stepped into the living room, walked through it and said, "Make yourself at home, Sam."

He walked around the room and toward the windows that looked out on the darkening skyline dotted by pinpoints of light from buildings and street lamps. She said to make himself at home, but Sam shoved his hands into his pockets and checked out everything by sight first. On one end of the room there was a gas fireplace, and the other, a large screen television hung on the wall. An entertainment center below held a stereo and some other equipment. He bent over and turned on the stereo, and he found she programmed in a radio station that played soft jazz.

"Good choice," Elsa said as she came out of what Sam assumed was the bedroom. She'd removed her shoes and stockings, and her feet were bare. The suit was gone, and in its place she wore a white silky nightshirt that accentuated her curves and reached to just above her knee. "Want a drink? We can order some dinner from room service if you're hungry."

"How about I take care of the drinks, and you take care of dinner?"

She smiled. "You've got a deal!"

Dinner and drinks followed by an old black and white romantic comedy rounded out their evening. The movie wasn't exactly Sam's cup of tea, but spending the time curled up on the couch with Elsa spooned against him made it worthwhile. He fell asleep toward the end, and when he woke up he realized that a different movie was playing on the station. Elsa's head was pressed against his chest, and from her breath sounds, he could tell she was asleep. Slowly and with care, like defusing a bomb, Sam reached for the remote on the table next to his side of the couch. He turned off the television. With slow movements he slipped out from under Elsa, picked her up, and carried her to the bedroom.

He hadn't seen the room yet, so he didn't know the arrangement of furniture. It was completely dark except for the bit of light that spilled in from the living room. Sam could barely make out the king size bed. He walked across the room and lay Elsa on the bed, then worked the covers up and over her. Before going to turn off the other lights, he turned on the bedside lamp opposite the side where he laid her.

"Sammy, don't go," she mumbled as he got to the door.

Her sleepy voice touched his heart. "I'm not leaving, Elsa. I'll be right back." He turned off all the other lights and returned to the bedroom. It appeared that she'd gone back to sleep. She looked so beautiful, he couldn't stop staring at her. He undressed as he studied her, but she stirred and he didn't want her to know he'd been spying, so Sam turned and dropped his pants and shirt on a chair nearby. When he turned back to the bed he found her eyes watching him.

Elsa smiled. "Did you tuck me in?"

"Yes, I did." He smiled in return.

She rolled to her side to face him and took up half the bed. With her right hand she patted the empty space next to her. "Come here, Sammy. Come to bed." She spoke in a way that sent a shiver of desire racing down his spine.

"You've got it, Baby." His smile alone made her melt, and the moment he slipped in between the sheets, Elsa was in his arms.

Sam wanted to drop off right after they finished making love, but she was too gorgeous in the afterglow. He held her close and enjoyed the contact of his fingers on her skin and her hair, stroking her, relaxing her and sending her off to dreamland. Only then did he turn off the light and join her.


	6. Chapter 6

**Chapter 6**

In the morning, Sam woke up and he was alone. Elsa's side of the bed was cold, but where she lay when she fell asleep beside him was still a little warm. He knew then that she hadn't been up long. He listened and heard water running on the other side of the wall. Sam found her in the shower, and at first he was tempted to join her, but a glance at his watch told him he needed to get moving and go back to real life for awhile. He had people to call, intel to chase down, and as much as he enjoyed being with Elsa, there were things that needed to be done.

The water stopped running and Elsa emerged from behind the glass door. She smiled wide at him. "Morning, Sammy. You could have joined me."

He grinned. "I'd love to, but I really have to go."

"No time for breakfast?"

"Sorry, no. Really, I've already..."

She reached up and placed a finger over his lips. With a soft whisper she said, "Remember, when we're here, no talk of business."

"Right." He kissed her finger, then gently grasped her hand in his and moved it away to kiss her lips. Her body was smooth and slick from the water, and he was tempted to dive in deeply, but duty called. He released her with a mix between a sigh and a groan. "I'm sorry. I have to go."

"Will I see you tonight?"

The hopeful look in her eyes was impossible to resist. "Yes. What time?"

"Six o'clock. This time, be ready to go to someplace nice."

The corner of his mouth tipped up into a charming smile. "You've got it, Baby." One more kiss, and he hurried off to the bedroom to dress. He would take a shower and change when he got home. It was too dangerous to do it there, or he might never get out the door.

Sam was so used to the pattern happening in previous relationships, that he had the progression down pat. It started with the first night sleeping over. The next night, he arrived in a suit and shaved, they went to dinner, and he stayed again. On day three, Elsa called him during the day to tell him sweet things on the phone and ask him to prepare for staying overnight. By day six he was moving out of his apartment and into the penthouse suite. She paid for everything, the dinners and drinks, and she did it all without asking anything in return except for him to be accessible and love her like he did the first time. He willingly obliged.

Elsa called him her boy toy in jest, even though the term was usually reserved for younger men with an older woman. A kept man would have been a more apt description. However, Sam didn't mind because he wasn't alone anymore, she loved what he did to her, and she made him feel so good. When Michael and Fiona returned to the States with nothing new on Anson and the trail on Leeman had gone cold, they moved on to other issues. Sam balanced work with Elsa, but it didn't always flow smoothly.

He sat at the table at Carlito's with Michael, Fi, and Jesse discussing the latest wrinkle in Anson's interference when Sam's phone rang. He glanced down at it and saw that it was Elsa. He hit the ringer and turned it off.

"Do you need to get that, Sam?" Michael asked.

"No, it can wait until we're done." He saw the mail icon pop up. "It's Elsa, my new lady friend."

Michael and Fiona glanced at each other with a knowing look. They'd been through this before with Sam, and though they didn't like it, everyone tolerated it because Sam knew when to draw the line between fun with his girl and duty to his friends and the mission. If Elsa didn't like it, the relationship wouldn't stand the test, and like so many others it would fizzle fast. As soon as the meeting was over, Sam picked up his phone and called her.

"Hi Elsa, it's Sammy."

"Why didn't you answer my call earlier? I can't talk right now." She sounded stressed, and he wished he could reach through the line and massage her shoulders.

"Sorry. I was in a meeting."

When he put it in a business perspective, she understood and gave him some slack. "Okay. Well, how about we meet for lunch?"

"Can we make it dinner? I have some work I need to do and it might take all day."

She hesitated. "Alright. Six o'clock, meet me at the hotel? We'll go to one of those seafood places along South Beach."

Sam smiled. "I'll be there." He liked when she picked places that didn't require him to dress up. After he hung up he wiped the smile off his face and went back into work mode. He had a suspect to tail for the rest of the day. Hopefully, if the guy made a move it would be before five so Sam could get to his dinner date. Jesse was taking over at that time, but he would be on call in case anything happened.

Elsa didn't understand the odd hours he kept. Sometimes he had stakeout duty overnight and she missed him. He lost count of the number of texts she sent over the course of an evening. He knew she stayed up too late for her own good and that she would pay for it the next day, but Sam was flattered that Elsa gave him so much attention and was concerned about his welfare when he was away. He reciprocated, of course. If she went on a business trip he kept in touch with her. When she returned, he tried to be there waiting with a bouquet of fragrant peach roses, her favorite, and lots of one on one time. When his schedule and hers conflicted, that's when there was trouble.

Surveillance in a car in the dark with Fiona was not on Sam's list of fun things to do, but he was stuck with it, so all he could do was grin and bear it. She crunched on some chips while he took his turn looking through the binoculars at the building where the loser ex-husband of their latest client was staying. He was welching on his alimony payments and the poor woman needed them to survive. The team was busy, but none of them could turn her down. Sam's phone buzzed and he looked down to see another text from Elsa. His sigh echoed in the little Hyundai.

"What's wrong," Fiona asked in a tone that surprised him. She sounded like she actually cared. "Lady friend again?"

"Her name is Elsa, remember? Yes, it's her. She keeps texting me, asking me when I'm coming home." He handed Fiona the binoculars. "Your turn."

Fiona rolled up the chip bag and stowed it behind her seat, wiped her hands on a napkin, and took the field glasses from him. "Does she know you're on an all night stakeout?"

"Yes."

"So why does she keep texting you to come home?" She lowered the glasses and looked at him. "What is all this 'home' stuff anyway? It's a hotel, Sam. You're living in the woman's place of business. Have you ever seen her house?"

"You should talk, living in Mike's loft over a night club."

"That's different."

"Yeah, right." He reached for her chip bag. "We've gone to her house a few times, but she prefers that I stay at the hotel. It's more convenient."

"For her or for you?" Sam didn't answer. He just looked at her in the glow from the street light down the block. "I don't get it, Sam. Why do you let these women walk all over you, just for a free place to live and all your meals included? That's not love. That's servitude."

"Are you done, Fi?"

"Oh, believe me, I could go on all night, buster. But I'll restrain myself."

"Thanks for the concern." He could have been sarcastic and snarky, but he wasn't. Sam let out a breath, leaned his elbow against the door frame, and rested his temple against his fist. "I know what you're saying, Fi, and I think about that a lot. But when I'm with Elsa, it's like all reason goes out the window. She's terrific. And just so you know, sister, it's not all about what happens between the sheets."

"I find that hard to believe." She readjusted the binoculars.

"It's true. She and I talk about a lot of things. She's very much into the arts and all that, and I can appreciate a good symphony now and then. We both love movies."

Fiona listened as he continued, amazed at not so much what Sam said but how he said it. When he spoke about the things that bound him and Elsa together, his voice changed. It became softer, blooming with emotion. It reminded Fiona of her relationship with Michael. Their likes and dislikes sometimes clashed along with their strong personalities, yet they made it work.

"It's just weird though when we're together. She's all business at work, and if we do something off site it's like she can't stop being... bossy. But when we get home and we cross that threshold, she leaves business outside the door and then I'm in charge. I mean, I've known women like that before, but it's extreme with Elsa!"

"You two seem to be making it work." She glanced at him. "So what's the problem?"

His phone buzzed again. "That's the problem." He read the text. "She's asking again where I am because tomorrow morning she has to leave for London on business." He sighed and rubbed his forehead. "She wanted me to go along, but I said no because we're in the middle of this thing." He fell silent for a few minutes, stared out into the night, pondering his dilemma. "Fi, I really l... like Elsa. I just don't know if I can keep doing this if she doesn't respect that I have a job to do too."

His statement surprised Fiona, because that never seemed to bother him before. He always seemed happy to be on a leash without regard for his wants and needs. "Then you have to stop getting all stupid around her, put your foot down, and explain to her that she can't expect you to be at her beck and call like some boy toy." She used that term on purpose, because when Sam mentioned that Elsa called him that, both she and Michael felt a genuine ick factor as he said it. Even Sam looked uncomfortable when he said it. "Love is a two way street, Sam. If one person loves the other and that other person is just using them for sex or to exercise their power, or whatever, it'll never work."

"You're right." It almost killed Sam to say it, but it was true. "I'll have to talk to her about it."

"You do that, and let me know what she says." Sam felt a hand on his and he turned toward Fiona. In the dimness he saw her smile, the kind of expression she wore when she was about to rip someone's head off. "You're my friend as much as Michael's, and I swear if she hurts you, she won't know what hit her."

"Got it." He was in awe of Fiona's statement and the sisterly love she showed him through their conversation. He completely underestimated her. "Thanks, Fi."

Sam and Elsa had been seeing each other for a couple of months when it finally happened, the conflicts came to head. "Sam, my car is in the shop. Can we take yours to the park?"

"Uh, you want to go in my car?"

"Yes." Elsa finished packing a large bag with supplies for their picnic. "Is there something wrong with yours?"

She hadn't seen it yet because Sam kept it in the parking garage and she never had a reason to go there. "Well, let's just say it's... it's a bit used."

Elsa gasped when she saw it. "You've been driving this around all this time? Why didn't you tell me?"

"It didn't matter. It runs, it's reliable, and yeah, it's old, but I put a lot of love into it." Every car he ever owned he spent his own time and sweat making sure it ran in top shape. Unfortunately, his baby had been in a collision the previous week and he and Mike just hadn't had the time to take care of the body work. A long gash caused by a run-in with a suspect ran almost the entire length of the passenger side. "Mike and I were going to work on it next week and pop out this dent."

"Do you have a lot of crashes with your vehicle?"

Sam cocked his head and replied. "I'm a good driver, Elsa. You have nothing to worry about."

A smile played on her lips. "I wasn't concerned about my safety, if that's what you're thinking. Unlock it, and let's go. I want to stop somewhere first before we go to the park."

She directed him to her favorite car dealership, and Sam set his eyes on a beautiful white Cadillac as they rode onto the lot. A salesman stared over his nose at the older car, but Sam ignored the derogatory look. He was just excited because he and Elsa had gotten to the point where she wanted to buy him a car. Things were getting serious. She let him pick out what he wanted, and a couple hours later he left his old vehicle behind. He placed a kiss on his fingertips and touched the hood. He would miss the old girl, but he had a new love in his eye. Sam let Elsa sit in the passenger seat, closed the door for her, and got in. As he sank into the fragrant leather upholstery, he sighed in satisfaction and set the seat, mirrors, and steering wheel to his specifications.

"Do you like it?" She asked.

The smile on his face should have been indication enough, but he answered anyway. "I love it. Thank you, Elsa." He leaned over and kissed her. "I'll treat it with kid gloves, which means I won't let Mike borrow it any time soon." He remembered the Caddie that Veronica gave him that Michael nearly destroyed. When she saw it, she was horrified, and it took thousands of dollars of work to get it back to normal.

Elsa dragged him away from his thoughts. "Let's go picnic," Elsa said with a grin. "In the Keys."

Sam laughed, but he looked at her face. "You're serious."

"Don't you want to drive your new car?" Her smile was so carefree, he was dumbfounded. When they first met she was so businesslike and even in her down time, she found it hard to let loose. He obviously had some influence on her, and that made him feel good. She stretched in her seat and purred, "Sammy, don't you want to enjoy that new car smell?"

"You've got a point." He was supposed to be on call, but whenever she called him Sammy, she was a temptress who stole away his willpower. He bit his lip. "Let me just check in with Mike and see if he needs me this afternoon. Then we'll go."

"It's a Saturday, Sam."

He turned and looked her in the eye. "Elsa, what I... we... do, isn't a Monday through Friday, nine to five job." He leaned on the console and continued. "I wish I could tell you what's going on, but I can't. This is big though, and sometimes things happen fast and I've got to be ready." He caressed her jawline "You understand, don't you, Baby?"

She did, more than he could fathom. "I just find it interesting that before I met you, I could work seven days a week with no qualms. Now, when I want to hang things up on a weekend, you're on call!"

"I'm sorry." He pushed back the rising frustration and anger in his voice. He knew she understood, but she was trying to force his hand and he didn't like it. "Fine, we'll just go. If Mike needs me, hey, I'll be almost four hours away but I'll get back as soon as I can. If he's in danger, well... let's just hope that doesn't happen, shall we?" He gave her a smile that matched his sarcastic tone.

Elsa looked at him, and he knew he'd pushed the right button. She shook her head. "Just call him and find out if he needs you. If not, then we'll go." She turned away and looked out the window. She swiped at a bead of perspiration that ran down her temple. It was getting hot inside the car.

Sam called Michael, feeling like a jerk for manipulating her that way. But sometimes it was the only solution when Elsa got it in her head that they were doing something without regard to how it would affect his schedule. Maybe it was because she'd been on her own for so long, and she had so much money she could easily order everyone around without question. If she and Sam had any hope of staying together, they needed to have a policy of give and take in their relationship, and not just in regards to money or possessions. Slowly, she would learn that his time was just as valuable as hers and she needed to respect it.

"We're good to go, Elsa."

"Good." She smiled at him, but he could tell that his moment of assertiveness hurt her ego. He also knew she'd get over it quickly, because when it came to him she was very forgiving.

He started the car, put it into gear, and drove them out of the lot. On the highway, he held her hand and squeezed it, and she squeezed back. Her smile told him that all was right with them again, and that they would have a fun day and forget about his show of force.

Yet Elsa never forgot it. After that day she became more aware of Sam's desires and responsibilities, and she gave him more freedom to do his work without complaint from her. When Sam and his friends needed to borrow a car and her home, she let them use both with the promise from Sam that nothing bad would happen to her property. He returned the car freshly detailed and with a full tank of gas. The next day, Sam moved from the hotel to her house, but during the day when he wasn't working with his friends, he hung out at the hotel in case Elsa needed him. Their relationship had taken a new step.


	7. Chapter 7

**Chapter 7**

Life with a man who wasn't officially a spy but worked as if he were one served as a real challenge for Elsa. When she and Sam met and clicked, she saw him as a guy who could give her what she wanted without strings attached: basically someone who could satisfy her needs for companionship and physical contact. She'd met a lot of men who had the same good qualities as her late husband. Any one of them could have been a fine match. But in Sam she found herself and what she lacked, or at least what she used to be before wealth and responsibilities got in the way. He reminded her how to be more carefree and enjoy life. She'd completely forgotten how to do that when Richard died.

She hadn't expected to fall in love. That love would face a lot of challenges, the biggest of all being Sam himself. He adored spending time with her and sharing all the wonderful things her hard work offered him. She knew that. But did he love her? That was the big question, and she wasn't sure if she could keep going not knowing. Then Michael's world started to collapse, Sam got sucked into it and Elsa tried her best to insulate him, but she was no match for the power of friendship.

When Sam walked into the kitchen, Elsa knew immediately that something bad happened. Sam looked as if he'd aged ten years, and a trickle of blood ran down the side of his face from a cut near his temple.

"Hey, Baby," he muttered as he trudged into the room, leaned against the island, and planted his hands on it. He let out a deep breath and bowed his head.

"Sam, what happened?" Elsa placed a glass of ice water in front of him. She'd been getting it for herself, but he looked like he needed it more than she did.

He ignored it and looked up at her, his eyes moist and his brow crinkled, deep crevices holding his emotions. His shoulders sagged, his elbows bent, and she wondered if he would stay on his feet.

Elsa reached out for his arm with her hand and rubbed it, her light touch meant to comfort, but instead it seemed to upset him even more. His breath came out ragged and he blinked rapidly. She whispered, "Sammy, what's wrong? I want to help."

"There's..." He could barely get the word out. "There's nothing... nothing you can do, Elsa."

Hearing the anguish in his voice, her own eyes flooded with tears. She still didn't know what caused his distress, but it must have been serious for him to come so close to breaking. "I'm sorry."

His eyes locked onto hers, flooding and overflowing as his voice came out soft and breathy. "That's what I told Mike. I'm sorry." He bowed his head and sniffled, scrunched up his eyes against the assault of emotions that clamored for release. "I'm so very sorry."

Elsa wasn't prepared for the effect on Sam's body when he couldn't hold back the grief that gripped him. It was as if someone had pulled his arms out from under him, and he collapsed to his knees on the floor. She came around the corner of the island and found him with his head clasped in his hands and his upper body curled into itself. He shook with sobs. It scared her. She hadn't seen a man cry like that since Richard found out he would die from the cancer that ravaged his body. The memory of the discomfort of that day rose up in her, but she wouldn't let herself give in to shrinking away. She loved Richard, but she let him down, unable to handle his emotional outburst. Now her love for Sam gave her no choice. She couldn't make the same mistake and fail him when he needed her most.

She knelt on the floor with Sam, and somehow she worked her way into the cage he'd built out of himself, put an arm around his back and the other around his neck. He turned into her and she lost her balance, but he'd gripped her tightly enough that they fell to their sides together onto the tile floor. It was cool and hard, but that didn't matter. Sam buried his face in the crook of her neck as he clung to her like a lifeline. She tried not to cry, but she couldn't help herself. For every pang he experienced, she felt it too even though she still had no clue what happened to bring this on.

Time passed, and like a hurricane dispelled once it hit land, Sam's sorrow waned. He didn't say anything, just held onto her so tightly she thought she might pass out from a lack of air. A labored breath escaped from his lips, and he pulled his head back and looked at her as if he suddenly realized that she was there.

"Elsa, I'm sorry." He loosened his hold on her and sat up. He rested his weight on one hand planted on the floor and asked, "Did I hurt you?"

She sat up quickly and held onto his arms. "No, I'm fine. Sam, what happened? Please, tell me!"

A myriad of emotions crossed his face before he answered, and she knew the reason why. Until now, he hadn't shared anything really deep with her. She suspected that he wondered, even after all this time, if she could be trusted. He must have made a decision, because he started talking and the last six months came out in a jumble. Not in every gritty detail, but enough for her to know that her beloved held a heavy weight on his shoulders.

"And the icing on the cake was when Fi wanted to turn herself in to the FBI so this guy couldn't use her as leverage anymore. Mike was against it, but even though I knew how much it would hurt him..." Sam's voice broke and he took a moment to regain his composure. "I knew it would devastate him, but it was the only way. After Fi was in custody, we could take down this guy and then worry about how to get her out of jail."

"Where is she right now?"

"In FBI custody." Sam sniffled. The thought brought back more emotions. "Mike tried to prevent her from turning herself in. He handcuffed her to the stairs in the loft. That's where I found her. We talked about it, and I told Fi I supported her decision, whatever it would be." He blinked and swiped at his eyes. He looked into Elsa's as he said, "I promised her we would find a way to make this right, to get rid of the last man who burned Michael and free her, if she chose to go that route. If she didn't, we would all work together to get the gorilla off Mike's back forever."

"She decided to turn herself in, didn't she."

"Yeah." Sam nodded and looked up at the ceiling as he leaned against the cabinets.

Elsa joined him. She reached up to grab the kitchen towel hanging from the oven door to her right and handed it to him.

Sam let out a labored chuckle and took it from her. "Thanks." After wiping his eyes and regaining his composure, he continued the story. "Anyway, Fi and I came up with this plan. I uncuffed her, and she hit me with a beer bottle to make it look good, like she managed to get undone and overpowered me. I wasn't so sure Mike would buy it, but I don't think either of us was thinking clearly at that point." He sighed and rested his head against the drawer. "He didn't. And of course he was really angry. He took off, and now I don't know where he is."

"Oh, Sammy." Elsa didn't know what to say, because anything she came up with would be terribly inadequate. Instead, she curled her arms around his midsection and pressed into his side, resting her head against his collarbone. His head tilted into hers.

The two remained that way for an undetermined amount of time. The door leading from the garage banged against the frame, signaling that the housekeeper returned from her shopping trip. Bags rustled as she walked the short hall between the garage and the kitchen. Elsa squeezed Sam, and the two quickly got to their feet. She turned into him, brought his head down, and kissed him. What started as a ploy to cover what was really going on between them turned into more. Sam took her kisses like a desperate man seeking water to slake his thirst.

"Oh, Senor Axe, Senora Chatham... perdóneme por favor." She took a detour around them and dropped the bags onto the counter before quickly retreating back to the garage.

If it were any other time, Elsa would have chuckled at the intrusion. With her hands behind Sam's neck, she looked up and saw the sadness still in his eyes. Her own face surely bore the evidence of her empathy in her red rimmed eyes. Before Maria returned, someone had to make a decision.

"Sam." Elsa's hands skimmed down his shoulders to his arms and moved to his hands. He gripped hers so hard, a knuckle cracked.

"Sorry." He whispered and loosened his grip.

"It's okay. Come on, follow me." She walked backwards out of the kitchen and didn't stop until they reached the foyer. She wrapped an arm around his waist and led him upstairs to their room.

"Elsa, I'm not..."

"No, I know that. You just need a place of privacy right now."

"What I need is to go out there and find Mike." Sam's voice held an edge to it, but it was still shaky.

"Not until you've had a chance to decompress a little." She pushed him into the room and closed the door behind her, locked it and stood between him and the barrier to escape while pointing a finger at him. "You're in no condition to be driving anywhere right now. If you were thinking clearly, you'd agree with me."

"He could be anywhere, Elsa. Every minute he's out there alone is dangerous! Not just for him because of this guy we're after, but... I'm afraid of what he might do."

Sam was starting to become unstable again, and Elsa saw the parade of sadness and terror cross his face. She closed in, held him against her, and kept him tight in her arms until Sam wrapped his arms around her and he rested in the crook of her neck again. Elsa ran a hand through his hair to soothe him. Every muscle in his body was tense. She kissed his cheek as he pulled away from her shoulder. Her fingers flitted over the cut where Fiona hit him with the bottle. It didn't look like it would need stitches.

He was so close to tears again, but instead of releasing them, he kissed her. She let him melt into her and take her down to the bed, and he expressed his pain through touching her and being touched. Eventually he was exhausted and fell asleep. Sam and his friends had been through so much lately, and Elsa could only imagine the details. All she knew was that Sam came home brutally tired the last few months. Michael had to be under even more tension, and now that Fiona turned herself in, he had to be in terrible agony. Elsa got up and went downstairs to get Sam that ice cold glass of water. He would need it when he woke up.

She let him sleep for almost two hours. In the meantime, Elsa watched the news on television. The drama of Fiona's capture and arrest became top priority on all the local news stations. The cameras followed her into the courthouse, down the halls, and up to a room where she was being held for the time being. Elsa sat on the couch with her elbows on her knees and her hands clenched before her as she watched the fear on Fiona's face. From what Sam told her, she knew that emotion wasn't something that Fiona displayed often. When the news simply repeated the little information they'd been given, that she was being held for the bombing of the British Consulate, Elsa turned off the television and returned upstairs.

Setting down the glass on the nightstand, she roused Sam from his nap with a hand on his chest and another combing through his hair. "Sammy, wake up. Come on, wake up, honey."

"Huh... Elsa..." His eyes flew open and he looked at her. "I was sleeping? How long?"

She gave him a sympathetic smile. "Just an hour or so, maybe closer to two."

"No. Why'd you do that? Why'd you let me fall asleep?" He pushed around her to sit up on the bed. He found his shoes on the floor and stepped into them before jumping up to his feet. "I've gotta go find Mike!"

"Sam, wait!" She grabbed his arm and halted him.

"What?" His pain and sorrow turned to impatience in his tone.

"You should drink this. God knows you probably cried a river." She held out the glass for him.

He seemed embarrassed by that. The glass became a convenient means to block the evidence of his emotions from her. When he finished he gave it back to Elsa, put on a smile even if he didn't feel it, and kissed her cheek. "Thank you, Baby. I don't know what I would have done without you here."

"It's a good thing I came home early from that business trip and didn't feel like going to the office." She caressed his cheek, gave him one more kiss on the lips, and said, "If you like, I can go with you. Or I can help you try to look for Michael. Maybe he's back at the loft already."

"No, I don't think so. Thank you, but I really do need to do this alone."

"Call me and keep me up to date, okay?"

When he looked her in the eye, she always knew that whatever he said was the truth. "I will if I can." He pressed his lips to hers in one quick kiss before leaving the room. She listened to his footsteps swipe across the carpet and tread down the stairs. A few minutes later she saw the white Cadillac pull out of the garage and drive away. She caught a glimpse of Sam's face. He was still tortured by what he and Fiona had done. If only they could rewind time and do things differently.

Elsa delayed dinner, but Sam didn't come home. She finally resigned herself to eating alone. The news on the stations hadn't changed, except for the fact that the reporters delighted in the details of Fiona's violent past in the IRA. It sickened Elsa to see them practically salivating at the response from the British government. Thank God that she was under such tight security, or poor Fiona would be swinging from a rope before the day was through if a lynch mob had been able to get access to her.

Working from her home office usually afforded Elsa peace and privacy to complete a lot of work, but not that night. From her window she watched the sun go down and wondered where in Miami Sam and Michael were. She tried calling him and texting messages, but he didn't respond to any of them. At one point, she drove to Michael's loft. Sam had taken her there once to drop off something. Elsa didn't know the address, but she was good with landmarks and easily found it. The gate was closed, there were no cars inside when she peered through a hole in the corrugated metal, and the windows were dark.

By the time she arrived back at the house, Elsa didn't know what to think. She worried for Michael as much as Sam. There would be no sleep for her until one or both of them was found. She didn't even know where to begin to look. Maybe she should call the police. Maybe calling the police would put them in even greater danger. A little voice inside her told her to wait patiently. Sam would come home. Even if he'd been beaten to within an inch of his life and could only crawl, he would return to her.

He didn't necessarily crawl, but when Sam walked into the house, he came through the front door and looked like he'd been in the middle of a war. Elsa heard the door slam, pushed herself up from the couch, and hurried to meet him. If she thought he looked tired before, his half closed eyes and haggard face told her he wouldn't be on his feet for much longer.

Maria locked the door behind him. She stepped up to the two, examined him with intent eyes and asked Elsa, "Is Mr. Axe okay?"

Elsa responded while her eyes never left Sam. "He'll be fine, Maria. Please make sure everything is locked up for the night."

"Si." Maria turned away.

"Sam, did you find Michael?"

"Yeah. And everything just went to hell after that." His shoulders sagged and he turned toward her. Until that moment, she hadn't gotten a very good look at his shirt, one of her favorites that she bought him just recently. A large dried blood stain covered his upper right front.

Elsa gasped and put a hand up to the opening of his shirt. "Sam! You've been shot!" She pulled on the fabric.

He took her hand and held it in his, kneading her fingers. "Shh, it's okay. I wasn't shot. Somebody else was, and I just used their blood to make it look like I was hit."

"Why?"

"I'm sorry, honey. I'm so sorry that you had to get in the middle of my insane world," Sam said as the grief returned to his face.

"Shh, Sammy," Elsa whispered and pulled her hand from his grip. She used it to stroke his cheek as she spoke in a soothing tone. "Come on, let's go upstairs. Get you cleaned up, and if you feel like it, you can tell me what happened."

He nodded. As she led him upstairs, Elsa couldn't help but feel that he was like a robot, a machine running on empty. Every footfall thumped on the stairs. He almost seemed out of breath by the time she got him to the bedroom suite. She helped him undress, which he did mechanically, looking at her but his thoughts were a mile away. Elsa had to get the shower started for him and press on his back until he went inside.

"If you need anything, just let me know, okay, sweetheart?"

He nodded vacantly.

She knew when he stepped under the spray. He must have stood there for a good five minutes before he made noises of shampooing and soaping himself. Then the water continued its constant pattering rhythm as he stood under the shower head. But there was another sound, a haunting staccato that she heard earlier that day. It ripped at her heart as she hurried into the bathroom. Elsa tore open the door and Sam stood underneath the shower, face buried in his hands, weeping. She reached for the controls and turned off the water, pulled a thick absorbent towel off the rack and wrapped it around his shoulders, and pulled at him. He dropped his hands to grab the towel. His eyes were filled with shame at his faltering strength and inability to handle what had occurred that day.

Elsa didn't know what to do. "Sam, dry off, and let's get you to bed." She reached up and used her fingers to comb through his hair. While he dried himself, she waited. Then she escorted him to the bed and got him under the covers, turned off the lights except for the night stand lamp on her side, and she crawled in to nestle into his side.

"Mike is a mess, Elsa." He let out a shuddering breath mixed with a groan.

And you're not? She held him tighter.

"We were hot on the trail of this guy we're trying to catch, and he got so caught up... I don't know if that's it or he was so mad at me yet for helping Fi... he pointed a gun at me. He's never done that before. And the look in his eyes when he did it... it was like he was possessed or something. He wasn't himself."

"He turned a gun on you?" Elsa leaned on one elbow and stared at him.

"Yeah. A part of me knew he'd never pull that trigger, but if you'd seen the way he looked, Elsa, I thought I was going to die." He fell apart again and Elsa soothed him through it. He continued his story once he collected himself. "And then Anson got away. I was afraid to leave Mike alone after that, but I was kind of afraid to be alone with him at the loft. Elsa, if anything happens to him..." His body shook with sobs, and she thought her own heart would burst from the sadness she felt for him.

The only thing she could do was hold him until the wave subsided, kissing and whispering words to him. She didn't even know what she said in her desperation. It may have been "I love you." She'd never voiced it to him before, but at least now he knew. Even if she hadn't said a thing, he would have known. It took a strong woman to hold up under his buckling, and because she stayed by him and showed him so much tenderness and care, he loved her in return. But it would take awhile before he would tell her so. Until then, he let his body speak for him.


	8. Chapter 8

**Chapter 8**

Fiona was sent to a federal prison, while Michael, Sam and Jesse worked tirelessly to figure out a way to free her and take down Anson. This required more of Sam's time, but Elsa understood and didn't complain. By now she knew enough about his friends and their situation that she felt for them and promised to help in any way she could, even if it was just financial resources. Getting rid of Anson was good not only for only Michael and Fiona; with him gone, maybe she and Sam could have a less hectic, more normal relationship.

A few weeks after Fiona's arrest, Sam came to Elsa. "I have to run out to the Everglades with Mike and Jesse, but it shouldn't take long," he told her after they shared an early breakfast at the hotel. "We have to interview somebody, and as long as he cooperates, I'll be back in plenty of time for dinner."

"Good. I've been looking forward to trying out this new restaurant. Did you get..."

"Reservations, yes I did." He smiled and slipped his hand around her waist before kissing her deeply.

"Mmmm, you keep that up and your friends will be waiting for you," Elsa purred.

Sam laughed. "Oh, you just keep thinking like that, Baby. We'll skip dessert at the restaurant and head right home after dinner."

"Is that a promise?" She kissed the scruff on his cheek. As much as she hated it, she loved it. Sam's outward appearance served as a constant reminder of what she missed when she got too serious about life. She was almost always disappointed when he dressed up. He looked as dashing as he did that night they first met and he'd swept her off her feet and stolen her heart, but she loved him best when he was himself.

"Oh, you betcha. See you soon!" One more kiss, and he was out the door.

She sighed heavily, and he heard the sound. It sent his pulse racing, and he wished that the day was already over. All the way to their destination, Sam played the evening in his mind. He thought about how Elsa made him feel. Knowing she loved him, truly and deeply, he was aware that something was missing: his own admission of love for her. In his heart Sam felt the same things she did. But fear held him back. How often had he told a woman he loved her and then the relationship fell apart? With Veronica, everything was perfect except for the little burr of the marriage he never ended. He took care of that and he was free, but after Veronica he'd said those three little words only a couple other times with disastrous results. He wanted to be sure that things with Elsa were solid before he said it.

Sam wasn't sure how much more solid their relationship could be, especially after she helped him through the early days of Fiona's being incarcerated and Michael suffering a meltdown. The team focused on catching Anson and through it all Elsa waited for him to come home every day in one piece and supported him emotionally and physically, whispering words of love when he needed it, and giving herself completely to him when he needed that.

He had to stop his thoughts right there and focus, because he, Michael and Jesse were almost to their destination. Sam would be glad when they arrived. The back seat of the Charger had some good space, but it was still cramped for his legs. When he got out, he'd have to stretch a bit to get rid of the old man stiffness. Later on, a tête-à-tête with Elsa in the hot tub would take care of any other aches.

"Let's get this done," Sam said.

"What, are you in a hurry, Sam?" Jesse glanced at him.

"Well, I'd like to get back in time for dinner with Elsa." At Jesse's perplexed stare, Sam added, "Every tenth one is on me!"

Unfortunately for Sam, his day didn't go anywhere near like he'd planned. Their suspect was shot dead, and the person who did it, Rebecca, an ex-CIA operative who worked with Anson, kidnapped him and took him on a wild ride. He had plenty of opportunities to get away, but Sam knew that staying with Rebecca could get them some valuable information on Anson. She was trying to get away, to save her brother from the most evil enemy they'd ever known, and she became more desperate as Michael and Jesse closed in on her and Sam.

She'd almost gotten Sam killed when she strapped the C4 backpack to him and made him enter the drug lab compound. Then she started shooting at the hicks running the lab, and whether she was showing off or just pulling a power play to show Sam she could kill him if she chose, she fired one round close to his head. He wished he could have slapped her for that one.

Then she tied him to a pipe to check on the air boats. Earlier, he hijacked a cell phone from a work bench and hid it in his pocket, and now was the perfect time to use it. Sam checked to see if Rebecca was sufficiently distracted by the boats before he dialed Mike's number. He warned him that they needed backup, that he was dead whether or not the CIA got involved. Rebecca was still busy when he ended the call.

She'd been benevolent up until now, but Sam felt like his luck had run out. With each move to a new location she became more and more agitated. She was close to not thinking straight. Sam knew that's when hostage takers got dangerous. He thought about Elsa. A glance at his watch told him that in a half hour he would be late for their dinner date. There was no way he was making it, and it was quite possible that there would be no more dinner dates in his future because he was going to die in the middle of the Everglades.

In his career, from the Navy until now, Sam had found himself in many hairy situations where death was imminent. He often handled those times with bravado, or he refused to think about the fatal consequences as he worked his way out of trouble. Things were different now. He had a woman who loved him, and he loved her. When he closed his eyes he saw a brief flash of her standing beside his gravesite, dressed in black. Elsa never looked good in black. He couldn't do that to her. Somehow, he would try to get out of this because he hadn't told her yet how he felt. She had to know that he loved her before he took his last breath.

Sam dialed her number and waited. He hoped to get her: instead, her voicemail picked up, saying, "This is Elsa. Get to it." Just her recorded voice lodged a huge lump in his throat that he worked hard to swallow so he could speak. He wanted his last words to her to be clear.

"Hey Elsa, it's Sammy. I don't think I can get there for dinner tonight, so uh... I mean, I'll try and call ya later, but... in case I don't, uh, I just wanted to say... I love you, Baby." Then Rebecca had a gun to his head. If he had a chance to give it much thought, he would have concluded that the message was terribly inadequate. He wanted to say so much more. He wanted to tell her that he'd been in love with her since he first saw her at that ball. It had been easier to love her under the disguise of lust than to come clean, and now in his moment of desperation, when it was most likely too late, he caved.

Rebecca wanted to kill him. The anger and frustration in her eyes made it obvious. He'd pushed too far, and now he would pay with his life. If he didn't have to mourn the loss of the future with Elsa, he might have been at peace with the idea. Sam had been fighting and struggling for so many years, it was time for a break. He just wasn't ready for a permanent one.

He couldn't watch her squeeze the trigger. Instead, Sam closed his eyes and pictured Elsa's smiling face, imagined her lips touching his one last time, and he braced for the crash of the bullet against his skull. The gun was loud when it went off, and the explosion concussed against the treeline and his head, quickly followed by a grunt from Rebecca. He opened his eyes and she was still there. The butt of the gun came down hard against his temple, and everything went black. This was it. Now that she had him on the ground, she would finish him off. That was his last thought before succumbing to unconsciousness.

Sam was surprised that Rebecca didn't kill him. He knew then that deep down she had a good heart and that Michael and his team could help her with her own little Anson problem. After she was defused, figuratively and literally, the four piled into Michael's car and drove back to Miami. Somewhere along the way, Sam fell asleep or lost consciousness again. He wasn't sure. At one point he heard voices.

"Sam, come on. Wake up, we're back at the loft." Michael slapped the side of his face. "Sam. Wake up!"

"Think we better take him to a hospital," Jesse asked as he stood outside the car with Rebecca.

"I'm sorry." She watched as Sam climbed out of the haze of unconsciousness. "I shouldn't have hit him so hard."

"You shouldn't have hit him at all," Jesse replied. "If you'd just let us help from the beginning..."

"Hey, guys, you can argue later. Right now, Sam needs our help."

"I'm fine, Mikey." Sam mumbled. "Just need some sleep, that's all."

Michael shook his head. "We're not getting him out of the car this way." He stood and pulled out his phone.

"What, are you calling 911?"

"No, Jesse." The person on the other line answered. "Hi Elsa, it's Michael."

"Michael?" Elsa sounded alarmed. "Where's Sam? Is he okay?"

"Sort of. He's in the back of my car right now."

"Where are you? I'll come and get him. Michael, he called me earlier and the message he left... my god, I thought he was going to get killed!" She sniffled. "Are you sure he's okay?"

"He needs to see a doctor, but yeah, he'll be fine. Listen, I'll bring him over to you at the hotel..."

"No. Bring him to the house. You know where we live."

Michael nodded and smiled. He noted that she said 'we', not 'I'. "We'll be there in a few minutes. Relax Elsa, he really is okay."

"Thank you, Michael. I was so worried when I got that message."

Michael hung up the phone, and the three got back into the car and took Sam home to Elsa. Michael and Jesse carried him inside and took him to a guest room downstairs. It was easier than navigating the spiral staircase with dead weight between them. Rebecca stood by in case they needed any assistance. Elsa wordlessly nodded to her and followed the two men into the room where they laid Sam on a dark blue silk duvet.

"Thank you both for bringing him home," Elsa said with tears in her eyes. "I called the doctor and he's on his way."

"You're welcome, Elsa." Michael was surprised to find himself enveloped in a strong hug. She also communicated her thanks to Jesse and hugged him. Then they left the house, and until the doctor arrived, Elsa was alone with Sam.

She'd spent a lot of time hovering over Richard's bedside when he was ill. As a matter of fact, this was the room in which he spent his last days. She could have kicked herself for letting them put Sam in that room. She heard a groan that distracted her from her recollection and she hurried to his side. The dried blood worried her at the amount and the wide trail that ran down the side of his face. In the lamplight she studied the laceration under the mess. When would that doctor arrive? Elsa ran her hand along the side of his face that was uninjured. It pleased her that he turned in to it and moaned softly. A slight smile graced his lips.

"Sammy, can you wake up? It's me, Elsa." She received no response. "Honey, I got your message. Please, Sammy, you've got to wake up. I want to hear you say it again that you love me."

The doorbell rang, and Elsa heard Marie's footsteps as she answered the door. Soft voices, male and female, signaled that the doctor had arrived. Marie led the physician into the small room.

"Doctor Miller. Thank you for coming so quickly."

With his hands, he indicated that she should move out of the way as he got in to examine Sam. "Not a problem, Elsa. I was in the middle of a boring evening anyway." He smiled and reached for the lamp. "Does this light get any brighter?"

"No. I'll put on the overhead light." Elsa flipped the switch, and for the first time she got a good look at Sam in his dirty clothes, with smudges of earth on the material and his skin. The head injury looked even worse in bright light. She gasped and felt like she would get weak in the knees if she didn't sit down, so she moved to the other side of the bed, sat on the mattress, and took Sam's hand. She expected it to be cold, but it was as warm as ever. She laid it on her thigh that she hiked up onto the bed to be at a better angle where she could see him.

The doctor heard her reaction. With a raised eyebrow, he asked, "Do you know what happened to him?"

"No. At least, not everything. He was kidnapped and being held by someone. Sam thought his kidnapper was going to kill him." She watched the doctor take his pulse and blood pressure and pry open one eye to flash a light in it. "Is he going to be okay?"

Dr. Miller answered with a smile. "I suspect he's got a nasty concussion from that blow to the head. The pupil on that side is more dilated."

He continued to examine Sam while Elsa kept an eye on her beloved. She wrung his hand with hers in between moments of holding it tightly and caressing it. "When will he wake up? I tried. Michael tried. But no one can get him to wake up completely."

"Don't worry, he just needs some rest right now. If I wanted to , I could get him to respond." Dr. Miller pulled out some supplies from his bag and took stock. "Elsa, could you get me a bowl of warm water and some cloths? I want to clean up this head wound before I do anything."

"Oh, sure!" It felt good to be useful, instead of waiting and hoping for Sam to open his eyes. She hustled into the bathroom and got the things he asked for, and Marie brought a bowl of warm water.

When the blood was gone, the wound didn't look so bad. It still held an ugly jagged edge. The doctor used butterfly bandages to close it.

"Don't you need to stitch it," Elsa asked with alarm in her voice.

"No. With a jagged edge like this, the wound will heal faster. If I just close this up with the bandages, in a couple of days or so he'll have a fine line scab that should heal nicely." He finished his work, but Sam still had not regained consciousness. "Elsa, I'd like to stay for a few more hours if I may. I want you to keep trying to wake him up. If he doesn't respond, we'll need to call for an ambulance to take him to the hospital."

Elsa nodded. "You can stay across the hall in the other guest suite."

"Thank you."

"Well. It's about time all these guest rooms are used! I don't know why Richard insisted we have so many when we never had guests. They always stayed at the hotel." As she spoke to Sam, she caressed his face. "I really wish you'd wake up, Sam. I don't want you to have to go to the hospital. I want you right here with me, so I can take care of you." The corner of her mouth tipped up. "I never thought I'd hear myself say that ever again. When Richard got sick, I thought I'd done enough nursing to last a lifetime. I did my part, you know, that whole sickness and health business." She sighed and swallowed back the sorrow that those memories always brought back to her mind.

She was so tired. Elsa lost track of how long she'd kept up her monologue. She just knew her throat was dry and she needed some water, but she was afraid to leave Sam alone. What if things got worse? She'd heard stories of what could happen with people who had concussions. He could stop breathing and by the time she returned, it might be too late to revive him. Overcome with fear, she dropped and lay beside him, held onto his arm, and continued to stroke it as tears silently dripped onto his upper sleeve.

"Sammy, please don't leave me. I love you too much to let you go."

Sam groaned again and his body shifted. His head turned toward hers and she felt the tip of his nose touch her forehead. Elsa looked up and burst into happy tears when she saw his eyes open focusing on her.

"Elsa," he muttered. "How'd I... where are we?"

"You're at home, sweetie. In the guest room."

"Oh." He nodded slightly, wincing.

"Does your head hurt?"

"Yeah. I've got the biggest splitting headache right now. Can you get me something for it?"

"I'll get Dr. Miller. He can give you something." She tore away from him, slipped off the bed so fast she almost took the duvet with her, and soon returned with the doctor.

"Good to see you're awake finally, Sam. Another hour and I would have had you transported to the hospital."

"No. I don't need that. I'll be good... good as new soon." Sam tried to raise his head but it was a losing battle.

Dr. Miller held him down with a hand. "Just stay where you are. I'm going to give you some aspirin for the pain. I'm sorry there's not much else I can do until I know how serious that head injury is." He addressed Elsa. "I would recommend getting him in for at least a skull series."

"I'm fine, Doc. Just gotta rest."

After the doctor treated Sam, he helped Elsa strip him down and get him under the covers. Then he returned to the guest room for the rest of the night. Elsa dressed in a nightgown and returned to lay beside Sam. She leaned into his chest, and when he put his arm around her, she smiled against his skin.

"I'm so glad you're awake, Sammy."

"I'm really tired, Elsa, but I'll try to stay awake a little longer."

"I was so scared when I got your message." A tear leaked onto him, and his free hand moved to dry her cheek. "I kept thinking that I couldn't lose you now."

"Why?"

She raised her head and looked at him. "I love you, Sam. You know that. And now I know what I'd suspected for a long time, that you love me too."

"I do, Baby. I'm just sorry that it took my nearly dying to tell you the truth." He tucked a couple of fingertips beneath her chin, raised it, and leaned into a kiss. It was short but tender. He pulled away with a light breath escaping him, his eyes closed, and a look of pure contentment on his face. "I never thought I would touch your lips again, Elsa." He opened his eyes and locked on hers. "That would have been my biggest regret of all, that you and I didn't have the chance to say I love you, face to face, and follow it up with a kiss."

"I love you, Sammy."

Sam smiled, overwhelmed with emotion. "I love you too, Elsa."

He didn't care about the pounding in his head. He rolled to his side, took Elsa in his arms and kissed her with all the passion contained in his love. She gave as much as she got, and they soon found themselves short of breath and their hearts racing. Sam felt his desire rise within him, but it would have to wait. He sensed hers as well. Instead, he and Elsa contented themselves with falling asleep wrapped in each other's arms, confident that they had at least tomorrow to look forward to. If Elsa had any say, she'd make him quit the team. But for all her success at controlling her business and the rest of her life, Sam Axe was one part of it that remained untamed. She would endure, because she knew now that only death could keep them apart, and even death had a hard time getting its way with him. Elsa sighed, took in the scent of fresh air and earth on Sam, and fell asleep in a sense of security.

As Sam drifted off to sleep, he was grateful for the chance to finally tell Elsa how he felt. His last conscious thought was that the first chance he got, he needed to talk to Mike and thank him. If it weren't for him, Sam never would have been at that ball, and he never would have gotten the chance to meet Elsa. He'd always been skeptical about love at first sight because it never seemed to work for him. But this time, he found the woman he could see himself loving forever. Just being with her in the present moment was almost like a dream in itself. His head tried to play games with him, but his heart knew it was real. He fell asleep dreaming about a future with the woman who captured his heart with just one look.


End file.
